AGU: Beauty
by Leva
Summary: (Complete) Story from the Alternate Gargoyles Universe, written in approx. 1996. The story of how Allsworth discovered gargoyles, Allsworth's first love, and how the Hot Water Ranch came to be.


"Beauty"

by

Leva 

leva@firefox.org

Originally written in: 1996

Author's notes:

This is a story I wrote for the Alternate Gargoyles Universe, a mailing list run by Lori and Brian Henderson in the mid 1990's. Since I wrote this story, I'd like to think my talents as a writer have improved a bit -- but a lot of people have been asking for these stories, so I'm posting them here. The AGU was a mailing list for stories about gargoyles other than the Disney Gargoyles. Therefore these stories take place in Disney's *universe* but do not feature the Disney characters except in the occasional cameo.

Please note that most of these stories were written in serial fashion and there are quite a few internal consistency errors. I thought about fixing them, then thought about the original stuff I'm working on, and decided to shrug and leave them as-is as my time is limited. I only fixed the most obvious ones. You've been warned ... :) 

The stories follows a clan of Gargoyles and various other creatures living in Arizona's San Pedro River valley. "Beauty" is chronologically the first in the series.

Please note: If you are one of the original AGU writers or artists, and haven't spoken to me recently, please shoot me an email. There are quite a few people that I'd like to get in touch with. 

* * * * *

May, 1968

San Pedro River Valley

"It's hot." Balti grumbled through the sliding window. "When are we going to stop?"

Charles Allsworth glanced in the rearveiw mirror at his eldest son. Balti *looked* hot -- his fair features were flushed with sunburn and his shoulder-length blond hair clung damply to his cheeks. He rode on the mattress that covered the few belongings that they'd brought with them from back east; the pickup was an elderly vehicle and it swayed under the weight of the boxes and the five people riding in it.

Balti had been complaining since Texas, and to be honest, Charles didn't blame him. 

Charles' younger son, on the other hand, was on his knees, staring out at the wild countryside over the tailgate of the truck. Irwin looked like he was enjoying himself.

Grandma Allsworth chuckled, "Lad, this is a nice day."

"It must be bloody ninety degrees!" Balti snapped back at her.

"Be a hundred and ten in two weeks." Grandma said, mildly. "And theonly thing bloody will be your hide, young man, if you speak to me in that tone again."

Balti opened, then shut, his mouth. He was twenty-two years old and twice Grandma's size... but he wouldn't put a whupping past her still. Or some other form of humiliation.

Balti subsided, slumping down in the shade of the cab.

Rachelle Allsworth, the boys' mother, sighed. "Chuck, it is hot. How much further to the ranch?"

"Mom?" Charles asked. Grandma was navigating.

She looked at the map on her lap. "'Bout five miles ..." The truck hit a rut in the road and they all bounced a few inches into the air. "... at this rate, a half hour. You can go faster, you know."

"There's water at the ranch. We can all go swimming or something." Charles promised, shifting into a lower gear as the road worsened. 

"There's no water in the river. Why do they call it a river if there's no water in it?" Balti asked.

"Wait until it rains." Grandma said, "It's a river then."

Charles sighed. "There's water in it further up. It just goes underground here."

"Charles, if you go faster, you'll bounce right over the little bumps." Grandma Allsworth said, grabbing for door as they hit a bad patch of washboard.

"Then I start sliding." He snapped.

"You want me to drive?" She growled.

"No."

"Wuss."

"You drive like a race-car driver." Her son retorted. 

"Hey! Monkeys!" Irwin shouted from the back.

Grandma Allsworth glanced out the window. Half a dozen creatures that looked like crosses between monkeys and cats were crossing the road behind them. "Coatimundi." She corrected.

"What?" Irwin crawled forward to the window, then shoved his thick lasses back up his nose. "What did you say they are?"

"Coatimundi -- Coaties. They're related to raccoons. Smart as onkeys, though."

"Only Arizona would have wildlife named Cooties." Balti shaded his yes. "I swear, if it gets any hotter, I'm going to melt."

"Oh, it's going to get hotter. Believe-you-me." Grandma laughed. "ou should have been here last year when we were looking at the spread. It was so hot that the rear view mirror melted off the windshield."

"Thanks for the cheerful thoughts." Balti flopped back down.

* * * * *

"*This* is home?" Balti said. "Shoot, pop, I should've stayed back east and gotten work as a waiter or something!"

Chuck laughed. "It doesn't look like much, but with some work..."

"... a lot of work ..."

"... it'll be something."

"Yeah, right." Balti stared at the ranch house in disappointment. It was a square building, and tiny. It was nominally a two- story affair, although the second story was simply a screened-in gazebo type structure attached to the roof. The house looked like it was about to crumble back to the adobe and stone it had been built from.

In front of the house, there was a creek, as Charles had promised -- it was a scummy ankle-deep trickle that gurgled over sand. 

"So much for swimming." Balti stuck a finger in the tepid flow. 

"You can dam it with rocks." Chuck suggested. "And there's some hot springs back a ways. They'll be nice in winter."

Balti made a noncommittal noise. 

"The house does have some charm." Rachelle said.

Grandma snorted. "So did the wicked witch's cottage. Chuck's going to build a house up on the hill."

Charles nodded, "As soon as we get everything else in order, that's in the plans."

"Everything else better get in order pretty fast." Rachelle added, pushing the front door open. It creaked on rusty hinges.

The house had four rooms -- two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. The plaster on the walls was crumbling, a packrat had built a nest in the sink, and there was obscene graffiti on the walls. The staircase up to the rooftop room was dangerously unstable; Charles started to climb up it then changed his mind when it lurched away from the wall.

"After I fix that, I'm going to fix up the bunkhouse." Charles promised. "Then you boys will have a place of your own."

"Where's the bunkhouse?" Balti demanded, immediately.

"Up through the trees. Watch for snakes." He said, as the boys

took off.

The bunkhouse turned out to be a one-room affair with a sink -- the water didn't work -- four mattress-less bunk beds, and a loft. And a dead raccoon under the front porch. The stench was overpowering.

"Wonder if it had rabies." Balti said, poking the dead raccon with a long stick.

Irwin frowned at his brother, then announced, "I'm going to check out the creek -- I think I saw a pump or something by the creek; we're going to need to get it working. Want to come?"

"Nah, kid. Knock yourself out." Balti yawned.

Irwin shrugged, and headed for the machinery he had seen earlier.

Many years before, someone had poured a huge block of concrete and bolted a large machine to it. It was a pump, but it had evidently pumped creek water; the cement was the remains of a dam. Sometime in the past, the dam had been undercut and crumbled.

That still left the problem of water. Irwin picked his way down the creek, looking for signs of a well or a spring. There must have been one somewhere; the water in the creek was scummy, warm, and nasty-looking. His father had been out here the year before, and doubtlessly knew where the water source was (or wasn't), but he wanted to find it on his own -- it was a kind of ego thing, he supposed. If nothing else, he should be able to find a sign of a pump house or something.

A set of stone steps led up to some ivy and bramble covered roofless ruins -- nope, not a spring, just a house older than the ranchhouse. The house bore signs of flooding; there were high water marks on the walls.

Ah, there it was. Behind the ruins of the old house, there was a rocky outcrop. The outcrop was covered in a red flowered fuzzy-leaved plant, and columbine. When he investigated the cliff, he discovered a pipe driven into the rock; the pipe ran off through the trees but it was cold and damp.

Irwin followed the pipe. In places, it leaked. Finally, the pipe emptied into a large cement cistern built into a hillside. The cistern was covered with a plywood lid. Irwin lifted the lid ... and jumped as the frogs, tadpoles and waterbugs scattered with a huge splash.

Well, they'd have to fix *that* right enough!

The overflow from the tank trickled into a dark brick basin below. The basin was surrounded by more of the red flowered plants, columbine, and a healthy growth of grape and poison ivy. 

Irwin grinned. The previous owners had apparently had a sense of humor; the basin had a stone gargoyle for a guardian. The gargoyle had seen better days -- one forearm, one wing, and half her face had been smashed away.

It was a neat statue, though. It was kneeling before the water, staring into the dark pool. The thing appeared to be studying her reflection; her expression was infinitely sad.

"Poor thing." Irwin shook his head. "I wonder who broke you? I'd bet you've some stories to tell."

"Pooh!" His mother shouted.

Irwin flinched. His mother called him "Pooh", as in "Winnie the." He hated it -- at sixteen he felt he deserved a little more dignity -- and he wasn't overly fond of Irwin, either. 

"This is the most godforsaken piece of real estate I've ever seen." Balti's voice complained from the house as Irwin entered.

"I'm sorry you don't like it; you didn't have to come." Charles snarled at his eldest son.

Irwin sighed, "I like it here, dad. There's a really neat statue down by the water tank."

"You found the tanks?" Charles said, sounding pleased. "Good.

Would you fill a pan of water up? It should be safe if we boil it."

Irwin nodded and grabbed a pot from a box in the back of the truck.

"Howdy!" A voice shouted from the road as he stepped back outside.

Irwin shaded his eyes. "Hello."

A man wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeve shirt waved. "This is private property!" The man shouted. "No camping!"

Charles came outside, grinning. "We bought it last year."

The man suddenly grinned and ducked under the fence. He waded through the weeds and met them at the front door. "Well, I'll be damned. They finally found some suckers to buy the old place, eh?"

"Uhh... I know a little bit about cattle." Charles said, slowly. "I spent summers on my grandfather's ranch in Wyoming. This seems like a nice spread. Plenty of water, good grazing..."

"She's haunted." The man said, laughing. "I'm not a superstitious man, but I'd think twice about spending a night here. I'm Manuel Garcia." He held his hand out.

"Chuck. Charles Allsworth." Charles replied. "These are my sons, Irwin and Balti, and my wife Rachelle and my mother Jessica Allsworth."

"What's this about ghosts?" Rachelle shaded her eyes.

"Mmm. Some says ghosts, some say demons." The man shrugged. "I saw something run across the road about four years ago that sure as hell wasn't human." He shrugged, "Ya'll got guns?"

Charles nodded towards the truck; there was a twenty-two in the rack behind the seat. 

The man grunted. "Well, I suppose if you lock the doors, there shouldn't be a problem. Tilly -- she's the lady who used to run the place afore she passed on, may she rest in peace, -- claimed that they were harmless spirits."

Charles shrugged. "I hope so." His eyes were laughing with silent amusement. Demons indeed! He sighed, "Where do you live, anyway?"

"Next valley over." Samuel hooked a thumb to the south. "The Gonzales family's to the north of you; they keep to themselves, mostly. Cross the road, you have the damn commune. That's why I came up here when I saw the truck; I've run hippies off the place a few times." He shrugged. "They're trouble, and I don't like 'em around."

"Irwin, go fetch the water." His father reminded him, then headed into the house with their neighbor.

Irwin sighed.

"You want me to come, little brother?" Balti asked, "Whooooo - oooo - oooo! It's almost dark, might see a ghost."

Irwin laughed. "I'm not afraid of ghosts."

The setting sun cast long, warm golden shadows through the trees as he headed for the cistern. Cicadas ripped into buzzing song in the trees. Lizards scuttled out of his path. A small group of pig-like javelina ran across his path, single-file; a tusked boar brought up the rear.

"I like it here." He breathed, clambering up the warm stone steps. He dipped the pan into the cistern -- and fished out a tadpole from the water -- then started back down to the house. 

A twig snapped.

He froze, then smiled as the whitetail stepped out of the shadows and drank from the brick-lined pool. The little deer was no larger than a greyhound; she was all legs and delicate bones. She drank her fill, then settled down under a mesquite, ears flicking at the sandflies that bit at her.

Irwin crouched in the bushes, watching in amazement; he was scarcely twenty feet from the doe. She seemed unafraid, calm. The sun slowly set, casting first an amber glow across the land then a blue, hushed twilight.

Stones sprayed across the pool, and a sudden movement caused him to jump. The doe leaped to her feet, tail twitching.

The *statue* stood up!

"Hello, pretty one." The statue said. Her voice was a soft soprano, musical.

The doe trotted forward, and enthusiastically greeted the statue. Only, by the lingering twilight, Irwin could see that the creature was no statue -- she was flesh and blood, and hideously scarred. A monster with one wing and half a hand. How had he mistaken her for a statue before?

The doe whuffled at the creature's fingers. She was wearing a short tunic; the tunic had a belt and there was a pouch on her belt. With her two remaining fingers, she fished in the pouch and retrieved something.

The doe snuffled the treat from the monster's fingers, and when no other treats were forthcoming, she presented her ribs for a scratch.

"Ach, you're a lovely lady, are you not?" The monster said, raising a cloud of dust as she scratched the doe's hide. 

Until now, the wind had been blowing softly upcanyon. Suddenly, it swapped around and blew down the canyon, taking his scent to the little deer.

She threw her head up, snorted, and bolted.

The monster spun around. Her one wing flew open, and she crouched.

She spotted Allsworth hiding in the bushes almost instantly. Her teeth bared in a feral snarl. "Begone! This is my place!" She growled at him.

Allsworth started to back away. "Easy! I won't hurt you..."

"It is you who should be frightened!" She growled, and in two leaps, she crossed the distance between them. Allsworth tried to run, but the creature was incredible fast. A two-fingered hand grabbed him by the shirt. "If I ever find you here again, you shall regret it!"

"But..."

"This is my land to protect. No one dares hunt here or live here..."

"But..."

"This is my sanctuary!" She flung him to the ground.

"... uh, would you be willing to share?"

She blinked at him. She only had one eye; it glowed an astonishing shade of emerald green. "No." She growled.

"But this is our land too. I mean, we bought it."

"*What*?" She suddenly subsided. "Child, you should be quaking in your boots."

"Trust me, I'm just in shock." He sat up. "My parents bought this ranch. I don't think that you'll be able to scare us away." He shrugged. "... what would it take to convince you to share?"

"You're an odd child."

"So they tell me. And I'm sixteen; I'm not a child." He smiled at her, helplessly; inside, he was quaking.

He was suddenly rewarded by a smile in return. "You have guts, boy. What is your name?"

"Irwin Allsworth."

"Well, Allsworth, you're the first person I've met in a very long time who... gave me credit for being more than a monster."

"Eh?"

She sighed. "You... do not scream and run away, thinking you saw only a nightmare. You try to strike a deal, and by implication give me credit for both intelligence and what humans describe as humanity."

"Well, you were talking to the doe, so I assumed you weren't an animal. I have no idea what you are, but monsters don't charm deer..."

"I don't charm her, she's a pet. Humans shot her mother. I raised her from a fawn ... she's good company. It gets lonely here, all alone." The creature replied.

"I see."

"Irwin!" His father shouted, "Where's that water?"

The creature chuckled. "You are being called. Come see me later tonight; we shall talk about sharing my land. Young Allsworth... please come see me later."

He grinned, and she grinned back. "After dinner, then?"

"After dinner." She agreed, brushing her dark hair back from her scarred face.

* * * * *

The creature was seated on the edge of the cement cistern, trailing her fingers in the water that spilled over the lip. She favored him with a smile when he arrived. "I wasn't sure you'd come back." She said, hopping to the ground. "I was afraid you'd start running and keep running..."

He chuckled, "My brother has always said I was crazy. I wasn't sure *you* would be here."

"Where else have I to go? If you truly... have moved here to live, I suppose I shall have to get used to the idea of sharing my ranch once more." She brushed her dark hair back. "If I frighten you people badly enough, then you might call the police... I have been shot once, and it was painful enough." She smiled faintly. 

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot." She settled crosslegged to the ground. 

"What are you?"

"Oh! I'm ... humanity calls my people gargoyles. We're an ancient race, one of three that lives on this world, the other being the Children of Oberon ...you might call them faeries, elves, or the sidhe. Sometimes they appear as minor godlings -- they have a terrible sense of humor, y'know." She chuckled.

"Are there ... many gargoyles?"

She leaned back against the rock. and a shadow crossed her face "When I was small, I lived in Mexico with ... about twenty others. My clan. One night, I awoke and they were dead and I was so badly ... injured, I wished to die. I do not know who destroyed my clan; I can only fear I am the last gargoyle in the world."

"Oh..."

She shrugged. "Which is why I'm not entirely upset by the idea of company. I have no one. It's lonely up here, and either you'll drive me off..."

"No!"

"... or maybe I can carry on the odd intelligent conversation." She grinned at him, "Tilly would say I'm crazy to risk my life ... but Tilly died two years ago, and I haven't had much of a life since. This is the first time I've had anyone since then but Lady ... the doe ... to speak to. You don't know how good it is to hear a *response* when I speak!"

"Uhh..."

She tossed her dark hair back. "Your family can stay, so long as you come and speak to me, once in the while."

"Oh." That was it? All the creature wanted was *conversation*?

She tucked her knees to her chest. "That's all I ask."

"Oh ..."

"You were expecting gold, your firstborn, mebbe a bond of sorcery?" She laughed suddenly, merrily. "Humans are all alike! Always expecting far more than I can give or would ever ask for!" She leaped to her feet, spun around, then giggled. "Meet me here tomorrow night. You should be getting back, or your family will miss you!" And then she was gone with a sudden leap into the shadows.

Allsworth shoved his glasses up his nose, and stared after her. "I really think I'm going to like it here..."

* * * * *

Chapter 2

* * * * *

A cicada buzzed in the mesquite tree by the bunkhouse window. It sounded like a New Year's noisemaker, only shriller and steadier. Heat wafted through the open windows -- the bunkhouse had no air conditioning,

but a cooler was not high on the list of priorities. There were many other expensive things to do.

Balti, in the bed across the room, began to snore.

Irwin smiled faintly. His brother, fortunately, could sleep through World War Three, nevermind a lovesick locust and ninety degree heat. Irwin doubted he could sleep even if he had wanted to. It was just so damned hot! It was a sticky, humid, expectant heat. All night yesterday, lightning had flickered far in the distance. He had quickly decided he loved this wild, mountainous land -- but he had discovered just as quickly that he missed green growing things, soft grass, tall trees, lakes and gentle summer breezes.

The gargoyle had promised that the rains, if they came, would bring green leaves and flowers with them. He hoped so.

He listened to his brother snore for a moment longer before quietly slipping out of bed, pulling his shorts and a t-shirt on, and heading quietly for the door. He stepped outside into the warm night were the gargoyle was

waiting in the shadows. "Allsworth!" She cried, softly, and hugged him.

"Hey, watch the ribs!" He struggled in her grasp. The gargoyle sometimes forgot her own strength. Despite the fact that her head only came up to his shoulder and she only had one hand, she was stronger than ten men.

"Sorry." She set him down. "Come on, I want to show you something!" And she was gone through the trees, running faster than he could possibly follow.

"Wait up!" He shouted, running after her. 

She ambushed him from behind a rock. "Boo!" She cried, eye glowing and fangs flashing in the moonlight.

Allsworth laughed, "Very funny!"

"I thought so!" She was gone again, presumably to find another ambush point.

"C'mon, what were you going to show me?"

"The springs!" She cried from somewhere up ahead. "If we hurry, we can get there before moonset. You did bring a flashlight to get back?"

"Yeah." His friend had superlative night vision; he was merely human. 

"Shoulda told you to bring a pair of swim trunks... ah, well, we'll skinnydip." She reappeared, with something in her hands. "Look what I found!" She held it out to him.

"Shit, a snake!" He recoiled.

"It's just a garter snake." She gave him a look of supreme disgust.

"I Do Not like *snakes*."

"What, are you afraid of how they look?" There was sudden challenge in her voice. She set the snake down; it writhed off. "There is no harm in them -- but their appearance frightens you."

"Yeah, well, I'm only human."

"You are frightened of a snake, but not of me? Yet it is the same -- we both have frightening appearances, yet we are harmless."

"My friend, it's not the same!" He burst out laughing. "Why should I be frightened of you?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "You're crazy!"

"As a loon, but that's beside the point." She folded her arms and turned her back to him. "What if I did not like you, merely because you resembled those who killed me clan?"

"Don't talk like that!" He said. "My friend..."

She turned back to face him. "Learn to see with your heart and not your eyes, young Allsworth." She smiled slowly. 

"Answer me this: When you look at me with your heart, what do you see?"

"Uhhh..."

She took pity on him and rephrased her question. "When you think of me, how do you see me?"

"I see beauty." He replied, impulsively.

"Now you mock me!" She sounded hurt.

"No!" He grabbed her arms. "I do not!"

"But I am ugly!"

"We were just talking about inner truths." He snorted. "Who cares what you look like? You are beautiful inside!"

She laughed, suddenly. "I like you, young Allsworth. You're the one with the beautiful guts. Let's go!" And she was gone, loping through the trees.

Allsworth burst out laughing. That his friend was completely, totally daffy-duck mad, he had no doubt. But it was a good kind of madness.

The springs were an hour's hike up the canyon. It narrowed down; more water tumbled over the rocks. He smelled the springs before he reached them -- an eye-watering sulfur tang filled the air. 

Then he rounded a bend, and found an odd paradise. Hot water bubbled out of a cleft in the rock; he was quite suprised by the volume. It collected in a mineral-encrusted pool; the gargoyle was standing by the edge. She kicked off her tunic when she saw him; the moonlight briefly revealed a surprisingly feminine hard- muscled body. Then she dove head-first into the water and came up with a yell, "C'mon! Water's great!"

"Uhh..." His face felt warm; he hoped she couldn't see that he was blushing.

"What, never been skinnydipping before?" She challenged.

"You're a girl!" He protested.

She threw her head back and laughed openly. "Objection noted. Wear your shorts if it bothers you!" She dove back beneath the water; the pool was deep enough that she had to tread water in the middle.

Allsworth shrugged off both his hesitation and his shirt and joined her. The water was not scalding hot; it was blood temperature. The effect was like swimming in air. 

She splashed him, one-handed, then tried to dunk him. He treaded water backwards, away from her.

She pouted, "What, scared of me?"

"You're naked!" He protested.

"You're a damn boyscout." She chuckled. She swam to shore, though, and retrieved her tunic. "There's not much difference between this thing wet and wearing nothing at all." She grumbled good-naturedly as she pulled it on. She dove back in, and shoved him beneath the water, one-handed, before he could escape.

He tried to push her away, then made the discovery that his friend was ticklish. This evened the battle considerably; after several minutes, gasping, they swam to shore. She sprawled out on a rock. "Allsworth?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish I was human." She sounded suddenly miserable.

"What... why?"

"This is no life!" She burst into tears. 

"My friend..." He was astonished at her mercuric ability to go from joy to grief in a heartbeat. It was part of who she was, but it was quite disconcerting. 

"I don't want to live the rest of my life as a monster, alone, a scarred..."

He hugged her impulsively. "Hey. You're not alone. You have me."

"I do." She whispered into his chest, then began to weep softly, bitterly. "Oh, I wish I was human..." Suddenly, she sat back. Her tears were gone. "I want a name."

"What? I thought you said your people had no names."

"I want a *name*."

"Well..."

"You give me a name."

"Umm... how about Beauty, like I said earlier?" It was the first thing that popped into his head.

She threw her head back and laughed, tears vanished. "Allsworth, that's audacious! I like it!" She hugged him again, gleefully. 

He caught her maimed hand in his. "Beauty, is there magic possible to turn you to a human?"

She blew out a sudden breath. "I... there are stories that we were told on the knees of our parents, of spells and magic and great deeds... "

She brushed her damp hair back with her stump. "But true magic? Perhaps a Child of Oberon might be able to..." She shrugged.

"So how would I find a Child?"

She chuckled softly. "That is something you do not want to do, my friend."

"Why not?"

"The Children are tricky, treacherous; I fear them. It would be far too dangerous for you -- or I -- to ask for a wish from them. Gifts from the Children always bear a price."

"Beauty," He pressed his palm to hers, "You've taught me to believe in magic. If there is a way to turn you human, I shall find it." 

"A pretty vow, Allsworth. But do not promise that which..."

"If there is a way," He repeated softly, "I shall find it."

* * * * *

"Boys!" Chuck shouted, "Come on up to the house!" 

Irwin groaned. It was five AM, and he and Beauty had been out until well past midnight. With a brief flash of humor, he wondered what his folks would think if they knew he was spending his nights with a girl...

Chuck greeted his sons with a hug for Irwin and a friendly cuff to the back of the head for Balti. 

"This is Storr Kelgard..."

"Stormy, please." The young man laughed. 

"I just hired him on to help with the ranch."

The man nodded. "Nice spread your pop has." Stormy was a lean man, with wiry muscles and thinning blond hair.

"And Stormy's going in to town to pick up a couple horses -- Irwin, you'll go with him."

Stormy nodded, "There's an auction. I'll pick up the trailer you wanted, too -- I know a decent trailer for sale for a few hundred; good to start with, anyway. Needs tires."

"Manuel said you were a good hand with the horses."

Stormy shrugged. "Grew up on a ranch. C'mon, kid." He headed for his battered pickup, which was parked in the shade. 

* * * * *

"Bad year for stock." Stormy said, laconically, that evening. He'd only bid on a half-dozen animals, and only purchased two. One was a solid but aging quarterhorse gelding with the intimidating name of Dynamite. The auctioneer had claimed the beast was a champion barrel-racer ... Stormy had grumbled, "Once." Even to Allsworth's inexperienced eyes, the horse was well past his prime.

"He'll be a good one for you guys to learn on, I think." Stormy said. "He'll go the distance yet."

The other horse was a short, stout little mare. "Mustang." Stormy patted her neck affectionately. She threw her head back. "Smart as they come, tough as nails ... you kids wouldn't last eight seconds on her back, though." 

Stormy loaded the two beasts into the trailer as a storm rolled in off the desert. Dynamite stepped easily into the trailer, but the mare, Catclaw, refused to go. Stormy calmly blindfolded her, and he and a few other auctiongoers used a rope strapped across the mare's hindquarters to wrestle her aboard. Catclaw kicked the side of the trailer and threw herself around for a moment before subsiding. Dynamite made nervous noises, unsettled by her

antics. 

Just as both horses were settled, thunder rumbled. Catclaw kicked again, and threw her head up. Dynamite shuffled his feet and snorted. 

"Knock it off." Stormy said, softly. "You think you're a bad thing, don't you? Just be a good girl, now, or you'll regret it, pretty thing." He threatened her in a soothing tone of voice.

Catclaw settled down, but when thunder cracked nearly overhead, she plunged about.

"Stupid filly." Stormy said, still talking softly. "You want to be dog meat? Hmm? That pretty hide of yours would look real good tanned up, now. Hmm? Aren't you just the dumbest thing on four legs?"

She kicked the door again.

"And the meanest." He still hadn't raised his voice. "C'mon, kid, let's get these two home." He walked forward to the truck.

By the time they pulled off the paved road, rain was pouring down hard. In the trailer, Dynamite's relative calm had settled Catclaw a little, though she kicked when they hit a cattleguard. 

Fifteen minutes later, the rain was *really* coming down hard -- so hard that it formed a solid sheet of water across the windshield. And fifteen minutes after *that*, the rain was mixed with hail stones and the dirt road was the consistency of peanut butter. And then they rounded a bend, and Stormy muttered, "Son of a bitch."

The San Pedro was flowing hard. Normally a shallow trickle, it was now a raging torrent of water the color and consistency of chocolate milk.

"There's a bridge..." 

"Yeah, but if the 'Pedro's flooding like that, so are its tributaries." Stormy guided the truck and trailer slowly across the mentioned bridge; the winds rocked both vehicles and hail battered the roof. They hit the mud on the other side...

And the truck found a rut and *stuck*.

Stormy muttered an obscenity under his breath and hopped out. He hopped back in a moment later, "Not going anywhere in this rain." He grumbled, then sighed. "Take a nap kid, we might be here a while. Like until dawn.

Truck's hung up on a boulder."

* * * * *

Beauty shivered. "I must be crazy." She muttered, huddling under the old plastic poncho that Tilly had given her long ago -- gargoyles were far tougher than humans, but even her race was made miserable by icy rain. 

It had been raining violently for hours. A restless feeling had stirred the gargoyle from her shelter beneath an overhang; when she reached the creek, she realized why. The water, normally an ankle-deep sandy trickle, was seven or eight feet deep and boiling with rocks and mud. It was already up over the banks, and rising as she watched.

"Tilly always worried about it flooding again..." Beauty muttered, running past the old rancher's first house. Tilly had been known to check the creek five or six times during a storm like this -- did these new people know?

They didn't; through the window, Beauty could see them clustered around a radio. The power was out; they listened by candlelight to KTAR. 

The water was over the road now, and boiling up fast. Beauty had seen a few storms like this before, but not recently. She splashed through the muddy yard and banged on the front door.

Allsworth's grandmother opened the door with a flashlight in one hand. She shone the light on Beauty...

... and took in a creature straight out of a bad horror movie, complete with wings, fangs, scars and lightning flashing behind. 

Jessica Allsworth slammed the door with a yelp of fright.

"C'mon!" Beauty beat on the door with her maimed fist. "The creek's rising! You have to get out!"

There were frightened noises from inside.

Beauty cussed softly, and lifted a taloned foot into the air. One powerful kick blew the door off its hinges. "Get out!" She screamed at them, "You want to drown?"

A heartbeat later, she registered a twenty-two leveled at her chest. She dove aside as Chuck fired; white heat creased her shoulder. 

"Why do they always shoot me when they meet me?" Beauty asked rhetorically as she retreated.

"Dad, the creek is rising!" Balti yelped.

"*What*?" Chuck was thoroughly rattled; it took him a moment to register his son's words.

"The monster came here to *warn* us!" Jessica Allsworth took in the water rolling not ten feet from the front door of the house. "Let's go!" She ran out the door.

A voice shouted from the cover of darkness, "There's an overhang above the tailings pile that's safe and dry!" And then she was gone.

The Allsworths ran for the cover, not questioning their rescue until they were out of the rain and hail.

Jessica asked the question that was on all of their minds. "What the bloody hell was that thing?"

A crunch rose over the roar of the rain and floodwaters and thunder.

"There goes the house." Balti shivered.

"Big loss." Jessica observed, seating herself on a rock. "Hey, this isn't an overhang. It's some kind of mine shaft." She shined her flashlight back into the shadows. "Doesn't go back very far, though. Looks like they were mining copper." She picked a green chunk of metallic ore off the ground. 

"I'm worried about Winnie." Rachelle shivered.

"Ahh, don't worry about the boy." Jessica said, offhandedly. "He's safe with Stormy -- and I'm never wrong about feelings like that. Irwin is just fine."

Rachelle looked honestly relieved. "He's probably scared, though."

"He's seventeen. He's a big boy." Jessica said, irritably. "And a smart one. Me and him are a lot alike..."

"God forbid!" Rachelle burst out.

Jessica laughed suddenly, and Chuck and Balti joined in. It was a nervous, hysterical laughter. Rachelle chuckled softly, realizing that her impulsive outburst had not been taken badly.

"God forbid indeed. One of me is quite enough." Jessica leaned against the rock wall and closed her eyes. "Irwin is fine. The house is a total loss, but we're all fine. I'm going to take a nap now."

* * * * *

Chapter Three

* * * * *

"Pooh, you're safe!" His mother shrieked, throwing her arms around him.

He hugged her back, "Mom, I'm fine. Hungry enough to eat a horse, but fine."

"I'd nominate a mustang mare for the barbeque." Stormy said dryly, as he peered over the trailer's gate. The mare responded by laying her ears back and kicking at the door. Dynamite, the gelding, shuffled his feet and laid his ears back at his companion's antics.

"The house..." Allsworth breathed, "It's gone!"

"Bunkhouse survived." Balti said. "It's a few feet higher."

"Looks like we build the house up on the hill sooner." His father shrugged, and hugged him. "Glad you're okay, kid."

"Something warned us." Jessica told her grandson, taking her turn to hug him. 

"Warned you?"

"We'd never have gotten out in time, except that some ... creature ... came and warned us." Chuck agreed. 

"Yeah, sprat, you should have seen it! Six feet tall, wings, a tail ... he looked like the devil himself, with glowing eyes!" Balti threw his arms into the air.

"She saved you?" Allsworth blinked at his family.

"I think it was a he." Balti said, firmly.

Allsworth corrected, "No, she's female. She's only about five feet tall, she only has one wing, and her name is Beauty." 

"Who named her *that*?" Balti cracked up.

"Her name," Allsworth said firmly, "Is Beauty." He shrugged. "I've met with her..." He paused, "A few times."

"And you didn't *say* anything?" Balti breathed.

Allsworth shrugged. 

"Kid, do you think you could find her again?" Chuck said, running a hand through his greying hair.

"Yeah, sure."

"I'd like to thank ... her, whatever she is." He shrugged. "She led us to safety even after we shot at her."

Allsworth nodded, "She would."

"Why didn't you say anything?" His grandma asked.

"I dunno. It seemed like a secret that should be kept, y'know? And she's afraid of people, a little. But I think I can get her to come down ... to the bunkhouse, I guess." 

Stormy had been listening with quiet interest. "So there really is a monster here?"

"She's NOT a monster!" Allsworth spun around, suddenly defensive. "Beauty is NOT a monster! Don't ever call her that!"

"Sorry, kid. But what else do you call..."

"Her people are gargoyles, if you must call them something."

* * * * *

"Allsworth!" Beauty hugged him ecstatically. "I was so worried for you!"

"Hey, I'm fine!" He laughed. 

"Your family -- are they okay?"

"Yes, and I can't thank you enough for..."

"It was nothing!" She sounded a trifle irritated.

"They want to meet you."

She stiffened suddenly, and stepped away. "Why?"

"Because you saved their lives!" He laughed. "Beauty..."

"Or perhaps they want to gape at me, to capture me..."

"No!" He said, hurt in his eyes.

"You I trust more than anything or anyone." She grasped his shoulder with her one mangled hand. "But Allsworth ... you do not have my nightmares."

"Beauty?" 

She sat down on a rock and stared at the creek below her pool. The creek was back to normal; a sandy flow of tepid water. She seemed suddenly very small and vulnerable; she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested

her chin on her knees.

"Beauty?" He repeated, sitting down next to her. He draped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey. I wouldn't let anything happen to you..."

"When I was fifteen, which would be seven of your years, I awoke to find...myself mangled, my clan dead and crushed to gravel, and my human family shot." She spoke matter-of-factly. "I spent the next ten years alone, living like a wild thing. Then a rancher shot me and Tilly found me ... she was my family for three years, before she died." Beauty suddenly lifted her head. Her eyes were dry, and a cold anger burned in them that he had never

seen before. "I am afraid of being hurt again. I am always hurt, simply because of what I am! Do you not wonder at why I wish to be human? You humans have it easy!" She pushed away from him and jumped to her feet.

"Beauty!" He pursued her. 

"Leave me, Allsworth." She walked into the trees.

He ran after her. "Beauty!"

"I don't want to see you again! You bring me too much pain!" 

He grabbed her arm.

She wrenched away. "I could kill you were you stand, you know."

"Beauty, you're my friend. Do you care how *I* feel?"

She stared at him for a long moment.

"If you leave me, then *I* will hurt. Do you want to hurt me?"

"You would hurt for a short while, but then you would forget." She said, angrily.

"I would never forget you."

She paused, sudden confusion and indecision warring in her expression.

He held his hand out. "Come with me. Be part of my life. Be my friend. Please?"

"You're an odd one, human." She was verbally fencing, giving herself time to *think*.

He fell silent.

She stood, arms folded, single wing draped over her shoulder, and head bowed, for a very long time. Finally, she lifted her scarred features and nodded, curtly. "The chance is worth taking; perhaps there is a chance

that I may ..." She trailed off.

He held his arms open, and she stumbled forward. "Beauty, know that I will *always* be your friend." He held her as tightly as he could, stroking the snarls out of her dark hair. Her arms slowly wrapped around his back and she buried her face in his shoulder. 

"I was so afraid I would lose you ... I didn't want to be alone again!" She clutched him. "Don't ever leave me. Please, my friend? Don't ever leave me."

"Beauty, I'm not going to go away if there's anything I can possibly do about it." He vowed. "I swear this to you."

She stepped back suddenly, and took a deep breath. "Thank you ... I'm sorry, Allsworth. I'm afraid I'm a bit crazy."

He smiled at her. "It's rather understandable. Come on, then. Let's go meet my family."

* * * * *

Balti's reaction, when they approached the bunkhouse, was an immediate, "Good god, it's ugly!"

Beauty's head whipped around. Her one eye narrowed. 

"Balti!" Jessica Allsworth snapped. "She may be scary outside; you're the one with the bad manners!"

Beauty took a nervous step closer to Irwin, who rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Guys, this is Beauty. She lived her before we ever did."

"Uhh..." Chuck was clearly at a loss for words. "What is she?"

"I am a gargoyle, and I fear that I am the last of my kind." Beauty said, settling her wing over her shoulders. 

An awkward silence fell.

Jessica harrumphed. "Well, come on in, Beauty. We owe you our lives."

Beauty nodded, and stepped inside the bunkhouse. Her posture was wary, and Allsworth, behind her, rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

The repair crews had put up new power lines, and the electricity was back on. It was the first time in that Allsworth had seen Beauty in really good light. He bit his lip. He'd known she was scarred, but not that half her face, from her forehead to lower lip, was a solid mass of scar-tissue with neither an eye or ear. She was unquestionably grotesque, even above and beyond her inhuman appearance.

She grinned at them, a lopsided, one-fanged grin. They smiled back uncertainly. She looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "Spiderman!" She exclaimed, seeing Balti's collection of comics scattered on his bed.

Balti blinked. "You read ... comics?"

"Not recently." Beauty said, "I haven't even had anyone to *talk* to until your brother became my friend."

Allsworth hooked his arm around her shoulders. "Beauty, you'll always have someone to talk to so long as I'm around." He glared over the top of her head at his parents, daring them to challenge his words.

His father, however, merely was studying Beauty with an odd, stunned expression. "My god." Chuck said, sitting down on the edge of one of the bunks. "Kinda like a bad fantasy novel come to life, you know?"

Jessica Allsworth sighed. "May we live in interesting times." She muttered, covering her face with her hands. "Okay, Pooh. She's your friend. I assume she's not going to turn into a ravening monster or slay us all while

we sleep..."

"Never!" Beauty exclaimed. She paused, and studied the talons of her maimed hand. "Since you all know about me now, I could help out around here. I can ride a horse, though I only can help at night..."

Chuck laughed. "Just call us the Addams Family..."

"Oh, I'm weirder than Thing." Beauty assured them, with a sly grin.

* * * * *

Chapter four

* * * * *

August 1968

"Beauty!" Chuck called, "Hand me that hammer!"

Beauty snagged the hammer from the worktable and scrambled up the ladder to the roof of the new house. She handed him the tool, then sprawled out on her stomach on the tin roof, which was still warm from the sun. Sunset

had only been moments before.

Irwin appeared from inside the house, toting half a sheet of drywall.

He leaned it against the masonry wall, and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"Beauty! There you are! Can you come inside for a moment? I need a strong back."

She grinned and leaped from the roof. Allsworth winced; only Beauty could take a twelve- foot drop without damaging anything. In fact, she seemed to be able to leap much greater distances than that; she'd once mentioned that

her people had evolved to take quite a battering during flight and landings. 

"What do you need?"

"Can you hold the drywall up while I nail it up?" Allsworth said, kicking a footstool into the proper position.

Beauty effortlessly held the heavy sheetrock in place, bracing it with her head, wing and hand. Balti had once challenged her to an arm-wrestling contest. It had not been much of a contest. 

He had then gotten her to attempt a few bench presses on his weight set -- even with one arm ending in a stump and the other missing fingers, she'd been able to bench press three times her own hundred pounds of weight. And she could have lifted more, but Balti only *had* three hundred pounds of weights!

After a half hour, they had the ceiling done. Irwin wiped his forehead. "I'm almost glad to be going to school tomorrow, Beauty." 

"Tomorrow? Already?"

"Yep. My senior year."

"Oh."

"Hey," He sensed her sudden dismay. "Beauty, it's only during the day."

"Huh?" She blinked at him. "Oh, no, I'm *glad* you get to go to school." She sighed, and sank down on the unfinished concrete floor. "I only wish I could go with you."

He settled beside her. "I'll teach you what I learn. How's that?"

"What good will it do me?"

"Hey, maybe someday I'll find some way to make you human. Then you'll be prepared."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I would like that."

* * * * *

Allsworth took a seat at the back of the classroom and wondered idly how far a rope made of all of the fringe on all of the t-shirts and jackets of all of the hippies would stretch. At least, he decided, to the moon and back.

They were a mixed bunch. Hispanic, Indian and white. He liked that -- he'd grown up in a school that had been stolidly WASP, and had always felt vaguely uncomfortable.

But at least two thirds of the guys and all of the girls wore their hair long. Allsworth refrained from running a hand through his own short fine blond mop; he wasn't sure he *could* grow his hair that long. 

Most wore beads, bell-bottoms and fringe. Allsworth, in a plain t-shirt and jeans, and cowboy boots with mud and worse on the toes, realized he was out of place. As usual. He had never been in style back home, either.

Well, he wasn't the only ranch brat. There were others with the ubiquitous worn boots and jeans. Allsworth sighed, and took out his Accounting book. He had a feeling it was going to be a *very* long year.

By the end of the day, he had established himself as Class Brain in three of seven classes. He was *good* at calculus, history and accounting. He was passable at English, already knew he was miserable at typing (people with

short, stubby fingers weren't meant to type fast) and came in third to last in a jog around the gym in PE. People with short legs weren't meant to *run* fast.

On the other hand, three months of working on the new house meant he *aced* the first day of shop. But then, in a community of ranchers, miners and farmers, this wasn't unusual. Pretty much all the students, male or female,

could operate a hammer without needing instructions. ('Swing from the the elbow and let the weight of the hammer drive the nail in. You should be able to do it in *one blow*...')

Allsworth yawned sleepily as he waited for the bus.

"Hey, farm boy!" Someone jostled him.

"Yeah?" Allsworth looked up at a brawny kid wearing a very out-of- style denim jacket.

"You live at the Hot Water Ranch, doncha?"

"Yeah, my dad bought it."

"They said Old Lady Tilly was a witch."

"She might have been." Allsworth allowed.

"Arencha afraid of the monsters?"

Allsworth laughed, "I can assure you, there's no monsters on the ranch. I'm Allsworth." His last name came out without his thinking about it -- Beauty called him that, and he'd gotten used to hearing it.

"Allsworth, eh? Funny name."

Allsworth shrugged. "The origin's pretty funny. When my grandpa came to this country, his name was Gertrudenbacker. The immigration officials asked him how to spell it, and Grandpa Gertrudenbackerfritzen said, 'I haven't got a clue. Try for all it's worth to spell it right.' But the guys at Ellis Island just put down, 'Allsworth'. And so we've been the Allsworth family ever since." He laughed, "I'd rather be Allsworth than

Trudenbackerfritzenguber any day of the week."

The kid in the denim shirt laughed. "I see your point, Gertrude."

Allsworth chuckled. "You know, I had a cousin named Gertrude Getrudelbackerfritzen?"

"Groovy."

The bus arrived, and Allsworth clambered on. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded, eyes closed.

"So, where you from, Allsworth?" The kid said. "I'm Gary."

"We've moved around a bit. New England, here and there." Allsworth said, yawning.

"Wow, big difference." Gary said, indicating the rugged country passing by outside the bus.

"Yeah, but I like it. It's beautiful land, and I like the ranch."

"And there's no monsters?"

"None at all."

* * * * *

September had brought slightly cooler temperatures. Stormy pulled into the fairgrounds parking lot and parked the truck and trailer between two similar rigs. He glanced over at his boss' son.

He liked the boy; there were very few seventeen year olds with Allsworth's combination of intelligence, common sense, humanity and industriousness. At the moment, Irwin was sound asleep with an accounting book open in his lap.

"Hey, kid, we're there." Stormy reached over and shook Irwin awake.

He stirred awake, and yawned, bleary-eyed. "Ehh?"

"We're there."

"Oh."

"Auction doesn't start for another hour." Stormy stretched. "You want to get something to eat?"

"Nah." Allsworth popped his door open. "There's a book sale that starts at eleven; I'll be back at noon to help with the stock." 

"Knock yourself out, kid."

Allsworth nodded, and headed for a low, round, barn-like building. Inside, hundreds of tables were covered in used books.

Allsworth, grinning, settled down to search for interesting volumes. He had five dollars, which would be enought to by twenty or thirty books at the prices they were charging.

A faint buzzing rang in his ears. He shook his head; the sound was not uncomfortable, but it was strange. Only when he rubbed his ears did he realize that it was not a *sound*, but rather, wholly in his head.

Which was odd, because the "sound" had a source. Puzzled, he followed the strange sensation to its source.

The source was a book.

"The Making of Magic", by one Robin Goodfellow.

He gently picked the volume up. The sound immediately stopped. It was a leather-bound book with thick, creamy pages and a red ribbon bookmark attached to the spine. The price almost sacrilegiously had been scrawled in

black felt tip marker on the front. It was "five dollars".

He didn't even think about it. He had five dollars plus enough change for tax. He'd rather have this book than anything else in the room.

Outside, he was surprised to see that the sky had clouded over and a storm was brewing. Lightning snapped, too close for comfort. Allsworth ducked beneath the eaves of a building and looked again at his find.

The felt tip marker numbers on the cover wer gone, as if it had never been there. The book felt warm to the touch; it almost felt alive.

It felt ... magic.

* * * * *

It wasn't until Allsworth got the book home that he realized the text was in latin.

"

Magic." His brother laughed, "Alacadabra!!!"

Beauty, who sat crosslegged on his bed, said, quietly, "Magic is all too real." She held the magical volume in the crook of her arm. "This is a primer, designed for children." She flipped through the pages. "See?" She pointed out a nameplate glued to the inside cover. "To my daughter, Fantasia Tarro. This one's for you, kid."

She frowned, "It seems to be written for the fey ... they usually do not let their artifacts out into the mortal world without cause. I would like to know what the cause for this is."

"Can you read Latin, Beauty?"

"A little." She said, "I haven't in fifteen years, and I was small and just learning then.

Jessica overheard her grandkids and Beauty talking. "*I* read Latin." She said, and snagged the book out of Beauty's arms. Her eyebrows shot up as she began to read. An odd expression crossed her face. "May I read this?" She

said, holding the book somewhat possessively.

"Yeah, go ahead." Allsworth sighed. "*I* can't."

His grandmother walked off, found a chair in the bunkhouse, and began to read. 

Only Beauty noticed the tears which brimmed in Jessica's eyes. 

* * * * *

Chapter five

* * * * *

"Fulminos Venitae!" Jessica Allsworth pointed her finger at the twisted remains of the old dam. White fire leaped from her hand and blasted a significant portion of the dam into gravel. "You try, kid." Jessica said, stepping aside for Allsworth to try.

"Fulminos Venitae!" Allsworth pointed. Nothing happened. "I'm afraid I must not have the gift." He said, wiping his hand on his pants leg.

"Maybe if you try harder..." Jessica frowned. She turned and shouted the words of power again, and blew another hole in the dam. "This is *fun*!"

Allsworth gave his grandmother a dark look. 

Jessica sighed. "According to the book, kiddo, you must have some kind of magic or it would not have called you to it."

"But it needn't be much." Allsworth shrugged. "It's almost dark; I'm going to go see Beauty."

Jessica chuckled and turned her attention to blasting great geysers of water into the air.

"Looks like fun." A dry, nasal voice commented.

Jessica nearly jumped out of her skin. And then she kept jumping, backwards, away from the creature who floated crosslegged in the air, several feet above a patch of poison ivy.

"Who ... what are you?"

"I'm a puck, *the* Puck, and you're an amusing creature!" He floated sideways, defying gravity. "Old woman, you're throwing enough magic around to light up Las Vegas and then you act surprised when you attract attention?"

She folded her arms. "You're a child of Oberon."

"Very good, ten points!"

"What do you want?"

"A trade."

"A trade?"

"I'll trade any one wish for that book." He pointed at the book in Jessica Allsworth's arms.

"Three wishes would be traditional." She wrapped her arms around the book protectively, though she knew very well he couldn't just *take* it from her. "And why do you want it? Forgive me for asking, but it seems like a rather basic primer."

"It has sentimental value." He shrugged.

"I see."

"Very well! Three wishes! Any wishes within my power! What do you want? Fame? Long life? Immortality?"

Jessica Allsworth's eyes gleamed. "Okay, three wishes." She said, handing him the book. 

"Well?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Old woman, you can think about it until you *die* -- which shouldn't be too long -- but then I'd be in debt to a damn ghost. And I don't have all day to float around waiting."

She nodded her head. "Very well. I don't want longevity, but I *do* want to live until I no longer desire life -- and I want to be healthy and sane for that time."

He nodded. "Done."

"And I want training in the magical arts."

This caused him to pause. "Must I teach a *human*? This could take *forever*!"

She paused. "Since you're such an obnoxious little worm, I don't think I'd want you as a teacher, anyway. Just find me the best teacher out there."

"Oh, okay." Puck studied the white-haired old woman. "I think I know an acceptable substitute." He paused. "And your final wish?"

Jessica Allsworth grinned. "That, trickster, can wait until another day."

"*What*?"

"You heard me. You're in debt to me."

"Damn." Puck sighed. "Very well. Call my name before any mirror and I shall come. Humans are such clever creatures, anyway."

* * * * *

"You want me to *what*!" Fanny laughed. "A human? You have to be kidding! You've had some crazy ideas, Father, but this is the ... my shop!"

"I'll find someone to tend your shop." Puck sat crosslegged on her counter, ignoring the customers, who, by and large, were ignoring him. About half couldn't see him; the other half were Children, weres, or otherwise

magical.

"Why should I do this? I can't even use my magic or Oberon will claim me when time comes for the Gathering!"

"Tell you what, kid." Puck said, pleadingly, "Teach the human a few tricks and I'll tell you where there's another real, live gargoyle."

"That would almost be worth it. Enchanted or living and breathing?"

"As alive as you and I, though she's a few cherries short of a fruitcake."

"Hmm. Not good enough."

"The human woman has talent."

"How much?"

"Enough. Merlin scale."

"*Merlin* scale? He could best one of us!"

"Which is why I think it's important that she be trained."

Fanny covered her eyes. "Very well. I'll train the mortal. Now, where's this gargoyle?"

"On the woman's ranch."

"Shee-it!" Fanny swiped at him. He jumped back, grinned, and dove into the mirror hanging over her counter.

His warm, nasal voice added, "You have reservations on flight 245 out of O'Hare in two days; there's instructions to get to the ranch with your tickets, which are on your dresser ..."

"Father!" Fanny threw her hands up in sheer frustration. "I HATE Children!"

Her fey patrons looked up at the outburst. Fanny shrugged. "What can I say? The truth is now out."

They laughed and went back to browsing.

* * * * *

Fanny's mood had not improved much by the time that she got to the ranch. 

She'd spent six hours cooped up in a claustrophobic airplane, and it had been *stormy*. Her stomach was still rolling. 

Then, in Phoenix, she'd stepped outside Terminal One to discover just *how* miserable July could be in Arizona. The weatherman had claimed it was 113 degrees at noon, with forty percent humidity.

The rental car office had been inadequately air conditioned, and there had been a very long line of cranky customers. After waiting in line for ninety minutes, she discovered that they were *out* of trucks -- she had specifically reserved a *truck*, after grilling her father on the road conditions.

The agency was apologetic, but she had to settle for a very large, rather impractical sedan of some kind. At least it was cheaper. 

And *then*, somewhere around Picacho Peak, the AC on the damned thing went out. 

So she found another branch of the rental car agency in Tucson and got a replacement car. By this time, it was nearly nine o'clock at night. 

"This witch had better bloody hell be Merlin class!" Fanny snarled, as she pulled into the parking lot of a motel 8. 

"Hey, sister!" 

Fanny jumped, then waved absently at a herd of hippies who were smoking joints in the parking lot. Fanny was dressed much as they were; she'd adopted the current youth fashions because it helped her shop's sales. She

occasionally wondered what they would say if they knew she was not only over *thirty*, but probably older than their parents. 

The desk clerk gave her a suspicious look. "We're full." He said.

"You have a Vacancy sign lit." Fanny pointed out.

He turned around and flipped a switch on the wall. The Vacancy sign went off. "I said, we're full."

"No luck, eh? The man's uncool." One of the hippies said, drifting in her direction.

"Yeah." Fanny agreed, heading for her car.

"You can toss with us. We're gonna go camp." He offered.

"No, thanks." Fanny sighed. A night of free love and marijuana under the stars lacked appeal. At one time, during the twenties, she had been rather loose and wild -- her father had alternated between amused and horrified. But the forty intervening years had taught her a few things.

Like dirt made a damned uncomfortable bed.

It took four tries to find a motel that would take her dressed as she was -- and a perverse fey pride kept her from changing into something more acceptable. The motel was a $9 dollar a night special. She flopped gratefully on the bed, then recoiled.

One good whiff of the redolent, salty stink of the antique mattress convinced her to ring housekeeping for clean bedding. She slept on the floor, which was only marginally more comfortable than dirt, and probably filthier,

but at least she *did* have a roof over her head.

It was raining outside.

* * * * *

"Hup, Dynamite!" Allsworth kicked the old quarterhorse after a rogue bull. The bull lowered his head menacingly for an instant. Dynamite, working without any specific instruction from his rider, slowed down and watched the

bull. After a moment, the feral animal spun around and charged into the corral.

"Yeaahh!" Allsworth waved his hat in the air. Herding wild cattle was an incredible challenge, but at this rate, they'd have all of the rogues on the ranch captured and either sold or branded and released by the end of the

month. 

Stormy jumped on the gate and rode it closed, then vaulted back aboard Catclaw without touching the stirrups.

"Hey, kid, there's some girl down by road." Stormy pointed.

Allsworth stood in his stirrups to see. Yep. There was a hippy walkingup the ranch road.

"I'll run her off." Allsworth wiped the sweat from his eyes. "I'm for calling a break, anyway. It's just too damn hot." The rains the night before had served only to increase the humidity.

Stormy nodded. "Be careful, kid. She could be high on something." He turned Catclaw towards the stables.

* * * * *

The horse was a solid, aging quarterhorse gelding who was covered to the chest in mud from the night before. His rider was an equally muddy boy dressed in battered jeans, chaps, a long-sleeve plaid shirt and a rather abused straw hat. Plus boots that were encrusted in filth.

They thundered up the road; the boy was a passable rider and the quarterhorse was clearly enjoying the run despite the heat and the mud. The boy pulled up a few feet away. "This is private land!" he shouted. "No trespassing!"

Fanny nodded, "I'm here to see Jessica Allsworth."

The kid paused for a long instant. "On what business?"

"Puck sent me."

"OH!" He dismounted. "I'm sorry, I thought you were a stray from the commune across the road." He held out a muddy hand for her to shake.

"I'm Fanny Tarro." She was surprised to realize that he was older than she first had guessed -- he was at least sixteen or seventeen. The boy had the type of rounded, cherubic features that never really aged.

"I'm Allsworth." He paused, "It's a bit of a hike up to the house; you want a ride?" 

Fanny laughed. "You'd make my day. It's bloody damn hot and I do not

know how you stand it."

"This isn't bad yet." The boy swung onto his mount, then pulled her up -- he was powerful for all his short stature. "Hup, Dynamite!"

"Looks like a nice spread." Fanny commented. "I was born on a ranch up by Prescott."

"Really?" He guided the horse over a creek. She had a noticeable accent. "You must have spent some time overseas, though."

"Yeah, I've got a few friends in Britain. They're gargoyles." She added absently, "They run a magic shop in London..."

"Did you say *gargoyles*?" Allsworth accidentally yanked on Dynamite's reins; the horse threw his head up and came to a stop so fast that they nearly fell off. "Sorry." Allsworth patted the horse on the neck.

"Yeah. Big monsters with wings and huge hearts."

"But Beauty thinks she's the last!" He exclaimed without thinking, then snapped his mouth shut, unsure of what he should tell this stranger.

Fanny laughed. "No, there's at least four clans I know of. There's the pair I mentioned in England -- there's only two of them, but they've been trying for an egg. There's about a dozen in Italy; there's only one female,

though. And there's a clan in Japan that's in really, really good shape -- they have about a hundred members and are on extremely good terms with the human population. And there's a clan in Guatemala that's quite large, but

they're antagonistic towards the locals and I fear for them."

Allsworth said slowly, "Just who are you?"

"A scholar. I study magic. Puck told me you guys had a gargoyle here."

"Beauty, yes. She'll be so happy to hear about other gargoyles!"

Fanny laughed, "I can't wait to meet her."

* * * * *

Chapter Six

* * * * *1

"Beauty, I wish you'd come and talk to this Fanny. She's wonderful -- Grandma's already hitting the books ..."

"No." The word was softly spoke from the bunkhouse roof.

Irwin sighed and stared up into the darkness. Beauty was a silent shape silhouetted against distant summer lightning. "Please?"

"No."

He sighed. "Okay, okay. You want to go up to the springs?"

"Yes." She slid off the roof with a flurry of dislodged dirt and a slither of talons. "Let's go, Allsworth!" She was gone.

Irwin ducked into the bunkhouse and fetched his swim trunks and a flashlight and two towels. Beauty was waiting for him under the trees; the gargoyle was uncharacteristically quiet. Rather than running as she usually did, she walked quietly at his side, maimed arms folded and head lowered.

"Beauty, you want to talk about it?" He rested a hand on her shoulder.

The head snapped up. "No."

"Fanny says she knows about other gargoyles -- lots of other gargoyles."

"So you told me."

"She could get you in touch with them!"

"And how am I supposed to meet them?" Beauty inquired softly. "Buy a first-class ticket and fly?"

"Red-eye." He suggested.

"Very funny, Allsworth."

"I try." 

She looked away suddenly; tears glinted on her cheek.

"Hey, Beauty, what's wrong?"

She took a deep, ragged breath. "I'm sorry. It's just that ... it does not matter if they exist or not, Allsworth. I am still alone."

"You're not alone." He rested his hands on her shoulders. "You have me."

"You ... we could never be, Allsworth!" 

"Why the hell not?"

This provoked a sharp, sardonic laugh. "You know the answer to that as well as I do! Your parents are wonderful people, but I think even your *grandmother* would object to a daughter-in-law with wings."

"Let them." He said, shortly and a bit irritably. 

"It wouldn't work." She tried to turn away, but he had a solid grip on her shoulders. "Allsworth ... don't ..." 

He released one of her shoulders and wiped away the dampness on her cheek with a thumb. "Beauty, I think you should contact the other gargoyles ..."

"And what then?" She shrugged. "What good would that do me? I can not fly, or fight, or climb as they do -- I am *ugly*, scarred, maimed ..."

"Beauty," He hugged her. "I do not know what they would think ... but I do not *care*!"

She sighed and returned the embrace fiercely. "And what then? Either I remain here -- or I go to live with them." Her voice was so soft, and quavering, that his breathing threatened to drown her words out. "And I wish to remain here, with you."

"Beauty." He whispered her name softly. "I wish you to remain as well."

"I know." She leaned back, to look up at his face.

He leaned towards her, eyes closing ... and his lips bumped into the palm of her maimed hand. "No." She said, softly.

"Beauty!" He protested.

"No." She twisted out of his grasp. "I'll meet with this Fanny."

Victory, Allsworth realized, of a sorts. Not what he had wanted, though.

* * * * *

Summer stretched into fall and one day Allsworth awoke to golden leaves on the cottonwoods. Fall became winter, and Grandma Allsworth learned magic and Fanny's laughing, sardonic sense of humor nestled into the Allsworth

clan without nary a ripple. Winter became spring, and graduation neared for Irwin.

"I think I'm asking Collette Graham to the prom." Allsworth said, lying on his back and watching the sunset fade from sky.

Beauty, lying on her stomach on the big flat rock atop the bluff, grinned. "Young Allsworth might finally get to kiss a girl."

"There's only one girl I want to kiss."

"Fanny?" Beauty teased him.

Allsworth blushed. 

Beauty giggled. "She's certainly pretty."

"You never quit, do you?" Allsworth made a rude noise. "Fanny ... Fanny has her charms, now, it's true." He grinned. "Though I think we'd strangle each other inside of a honeymoon ..."

"So traditional, Allsworth."

"Not really. The girl I want to kiss has fangs."

She grinned, baring them. "You never stop either." Her tone was light, but Allsworth saw the pleasure in his eyes -- and he also knew very well that she'd throw him across the room before she let him touch her. 

"Hey, y'know those stocks I bought?" He changed the subject.

"Yeah?"

"They split."

"That good?"

"*Very*."

"Hmm. Congratulations, then." She rolled over onto her back. "I still think you should invest your allowance in electronics."

"Yeah?"

"From what I've been reading, that's where the future lies."

"From what you've been reading, hmm?" He studied her.

She gave him a guileless expression.

He'd love to know what her IQ was. Fanny had said something about gargoyles having an IQ that averaged slightly about human norm -- she'd added something about survival of the fittest, there. Whatever the truth in that,

in a year, with the combined tutoring of himself, Jessica, and his father, Beauty had gone from near-illiteracy to reading the Wall Street Journal.

Smart gargoyle.

She was helping *him* with his math now.

"Oh, Beauty. I wish ..."

"Fanny says that there are spells to turn me to a human." She said, quietly. "But that none of us has the power to perform them."

"Then I'll find a mage who will and can!"

"As you say."

"If you were human, Beauty ..." He sighed. "What would you do if you were human?"

The response was immediate and prompt. "I'd marry you."

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

She grinned lazily at him. "That is, unless you don't marry Collette first ..."

"What? Never!" He laughed. "I'd have to be pretty desperate to marry Collette."

The gargoyle regarded him for a long, inscrutable moment. Then she sighed. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"What?"

"Me in the mirror ... as a human."

He sat up. "I swear to you Beauty, that some day, you'll look in the mirror and see a human."

"Would you marry me, then?"

"Of course!" His response was immediate and without hesitation. "Hell, I'd do it now, but explaining you to the minister could be interesting!"

She choked, laughing until her ribs hurt, at the image presented. "Veils. Lotsa veils, Allsworth."

"Yeah. And a blind minister. Or we could have the ceremony on Halloween ..."

She doubled over, giggling. "Allsworth!"

He sobered. "Beauty, there's so much I want to show you ..."

"We could honeymoon in Transylvania ...!"

This set both of them laughing again. Finally, they giggled to a stop.

"You've changed." Allsworth observed, suddenly. 

"How so?"

Bluntly, he answered, "You're laughing at yourself."

She thought about that. "Yeah. Because ..." She fell silent for more than a few minutes. "It's because ... Allsworth, I haven't been this happy in so very long."

He scooted over on the rock so that they were sitting side by side. "I would, you know."

"I know. I know. I know you would." She looked up at him, her one eye was soft and sad.

He cupped her face in his hands. "Beauty, I wish ..."

"Allsworth, it doesn't matter anymore." She whispered, and to his simple astonishment, she kissed him. 

He returned her kiss with interest -- he'd kissed a few girls, including the maligned Collette, but it was different with Beauty. He was in love with her, he realized, and beneath the love ran a deep friendship ...

All too soon, she pulled away and snuggled her head against his shoulders. A taloned claw shyly traced patterns on the back of his hand. "I'm not afraid ... anymore. Not when I'm with you."

He hugged her. "I changed my mind. Collette Graham can go hang. You and I'll do something ... a moonlit ride?"

"On Catclaw?" She suggested.

He exploded with laughter. "You're oughta your mind!"

* * * * *

"Lady, get out of there." Allsworth swatted Beauty's doe on the rump.

The doe leaped six feet straight up, then bounded off.

"Show-off." Allsworth accused, as he righted the garbage can that she'd dumped. "Just looking for sympathy."

Lady flicked an ear at him from across the yard.

"And twinky wrappers." Allsworth added. He fished in his pockets for healthier carrot sticks; the doe nearly took his fingers off. She was eating everything in sight, and her swelling sides were ample evidence why -- the

doe was eating for two.

"Two of you." Allsworth glowered at the creature. "Just what we need."

The doe snuffled his hands, looking for more carrots. He scratched her ribs, picking off ticks as his fingers found them -- deer carried more ticks than dogs, it seemed, and Beauty's two remaining talons weren't up to

the task of delousing her pet.

"Pest." Allsworth sent the doe scampering off with a slap to her flank. Not a hard slap, but the doe acted like it had stung and sulked in the shade of the stone wall that Beauty and Balti were building. Beauty had simply wanted a wall; Balti preferred masonry to wrangling cattle.

"Allsworth!" Fanny shouted, from the house. "Would you talk to me for a minute?"

He grinned and went inside. "Yeah, Fanny?"

"You're getting pretty close to Beauty." Fanny observed without any preamble. "What are you intentions?"

His eyes widened. "Find a way to turn her human. First. And then take it from there."

His grandmother was in the living room as well. She had her arms folded and an interested look on her face.

"You must turn her human first?" Fanny asked.;

"No!" Allsworth exclaimed instantly, then shuffled his feet. "I mean, I know it seems perverted ... but when I look at her, all I see is *her* ..."

"Allsworth," Fanny sighed, "I've suspected it for a while, but now I think I'm sure. You don't have much talent but what you do have is pretty rare -- I've watched you with Beauty, and with the animals and the other

kids -- you're an empath, with maybe a little of the second sight thrown in. Rare gift, and valuable."

He scratched the back of his calf with a bare foot. "I know what people are like, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah, that's what I mean." She grinned. "Now. About Beauty: why must she be human?"

"Because ..." Allsworth sighed. "Well, *she* wants to be human. She's not happy as she is."

"Would she be happier as a human?" Fanny asked gently.

Allsworth sighed. "I ... don't know. Maybe. There's so much I want to show her ..."

"Can you see her -- holding down a real job, having kids, going shopping at the grocery store ...?" Jessica asked her grandson gently.

"She'd learn."

"Would she be happier having learned that?"

"I don't know."

Jessica and Fanny exchanged a long look. Jessica nodded. "Whelp. I've always wanted to play Fairy Godmother. You're taking Beauty to prom, kid." She said, firmly.

* * * * *

"I look human!" Beauty shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"Ouch." Allsworth told her, clapping his hands over his ears. "Turn around. You look great!"

She spun around, and grinned at him. Dark hair tumbled in a silken mass around a fine-boned face. She had big brown eyes and a wide mouth, high cheekbones and a stubborn chin.

"Remember." Jessica cautioned the duo, "You'll have until sunrise, when she turns back to stone and shatters the illusion."

"Right." Beauty sobered. Then grinned again. "Thank you, Grandmother!" She threw her arms around Jessica's neck and hugged her.

"Ouch, kiddo!" Jessica laughed. "Don't forget that you're as strong as ever!"

"Sorry."

"And watch your hand." Fanny reminded her, from the kitchen table. "If anyone tries to shake it, they're going to get a bit of a shock."

Beauty held her hand up; the illusion had no more substance than air on the arm that ended at her forearm. "Whoosh!" She said, picturing the effect.

"Woosh." Allsworth agreed, starting the truck. "Umm ... for the same reason,

you might avoid dancing with anyone but me."

"Okay." She agreed, readily enough. She was staring at herself in the rearview mirror. 

* * * * *

"Hey, Allsworth, where'd you pick the chick up?" A voice shouted, as they walked across the parking lot to the gym.

"Rent-a-date!" Someone else suggested. "He couldn't even get Collette Graham to go with him!"

Allsworth draped his arm around her waist and addressed the hecklers -- two of the school's football players -- with a pleasant smile. He could feel Beauty quivering with nerves. "She's a good friend."

"Never seen her around before." The quarterback said. 

Allsworth's teeth bared in something approximating a snarl. "She's a *very* good friend."

"Allsworth." Beauty whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Don't create a scene over me. They're bigger than you."

"I could ..."

"If I have to rescue you, this illusion might not hold."

"Right." He chuckled. 

"Though it would almost be worth it." She added, as lewd suggestions floated their way. 

Allsworth blushed. Beauty flicked his cheek with a talon. "You're turning red."

"I'd never ...!" He protested.

She threw her head back and laughed. "I haven't the foggiest about how to dance. You'll have to show me."

* * * * *

"Whew!" Beauty wiped her forehead with her hand. "Allsworth, this is the best night of my life, but I think I need to sit down." 

"Tired?" He said, leading her to a chair.

"My legs hurt."

"I can't believe you tripped that kid." He chuckled, as she sat down. "Hey, he'll never know." She gave him a wolfish grin.

"Right." Allsworth laughed. Beauty had evidently swung her tail out and knocked one of the noisy jocks from the parking lot on his butt. 

"Hey, handsome, can I have this dance?"

Allsworth swung around, then smiled. "Beauty, this is Collette. Collette, this is Beauty."

Collette's eyes narrowed. "She's pretty, Allsworth."

"She's my best friend." Allsworth rested a hand on Beauty's shoulder and squeezed.

"Well, if she's just your best friend, then she won't mind if I borrow you." Collette tucked her hand under his arm and led him out onto the dance floor.

Allsworth gave Beauty a look of resignation. Beauty returned it with one of mild panic. He was leaving her *alone*?

Less than a minute after he vanished into the crowd, a voice asked,

"Are you free for this dance?"

She jumped half out of her skin. "Uh ..."

"I'm Iggy."

"Iggy?"

"Like Ignacio." He laughed. He was a boy who was a couple inches taller than Allsworth, with straight black hair and a nose that had been broken sometime in his life. "Your date seems to have dumped you."

"I don't think he had much choice ..."

"Yeah, Collette doesn't know when to stop." Iggy snorted. "So? Dance?"

"N-no."

"C'mon, I'm a nice guy. I swear I don't bite."

She laughed. "Thanks, but it's best if I don't dance with anyone but Allsworth."

Iggy's eyes narrowed. "... what? He object or something?"

"No!" Beauty laughed. "No ... it's too complicated to explain ..."

"He's dancing with another girl -- Collette! -- and he tells you can't dance with anyone else? That's ... that's ... uncool!"

"Please." Beauty said. "You don't understand."

"I understand." He said. "I understand totally. Kid, you have to learn to stick up for yourself." He held a hand out. "Eh? Just one dance. And if Winnie-the-Pooh objects, send him to me."

"I don't *want* to dance with you."

"Leave her be." Allsworth said, mildly, returning from the floor before the dance was over. 

"Why, are you going to make me?" Iggy sounded like he was looking for an excuse to fight with someone.

Allsworth rested a hand on Beauty's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." 

"I just want a dance with the lady. You were dancing with someone else; it only seems fair that your date dance with ..." He reached for her.

Beauty flinched away. 

"My date," Allsworth said, "Doesn't *want* to dance with you."

"You know what? You're scum." Iggy threw a punch at Allsworth.

Allsworth ducked under the punch. "I don't want a fight."

Ignacio apparently did, because his next punch landed in Allsworth's gut. Allsworth doubled over.

"Don't touch him!" Beauty leaped to her feet.

"Beauty!" Allsworth reached out and caught her arm. "It's okay ..."

"Hey!" The voice belonged to Mr. Green, the math teacher. "What's going on here?"

* * * * *

"Are you okay?" Beauty said.

Allsworth sighed. "Yeah. Fine. I'm sorry, Beauty ... what a way to end the night."

"Why did ..."

"Ignacio Perez' father is a lowlife scum who beats and controls his mother." Allsworth leaned his forehead against the cab of his truck. "Iggy hates his father, and when he thought I was doing to you what his father does to his mother, he ... was trying to be a good Samaritan. He meant well." Allsworth said, reflectively. "C'mon, Beauty. They kicked us out of the prom, but that doesn't mean we can't ... it's only ten, and the sun doesn't come up until six. You want to go for a drive?"

They had breakfast in a Dennys and saw the lights of Tucson; during the long drive back from Tucson, Beauty curled with her head against his arm and her hand on his knee. "If I were human ... maybe I could learn to drive

one of these things." He'd learned earlier that Beauty had never so much as ridden in a car before.

"You'd need a license, too." Allsworth said, then paused. "You know you're an illegal immigrant?"

"A what?"

"Oh, never mind. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

* * * * *

Jessica Allsworth watched her son and Beauty come up the hill in the pre-dawn light. They looked so happy -- Beauty was laughing, eyes dancing, teasing Allsworth, who was blushing and covering his face with his hands. Jessica knew that she ought to be horrified by the thought of an inhuman monster and her son, so obviously in love.

But ... if she had one wish, it would be to give Beauty her wish. Make her human. True love like that came so seldom ...

Jessica's eyes gleamed suddenly, and she hurried into the house. Fairy tales. Fairy godmothers. Happy endings. She loved this witch business.

* * * * *

Part #7

* * * * *

"I got a full scholarship to ASU." Irwin said, with a soft sigh; he had the mail tucked under his arm and one envelope open in his hands. 

"That's wonderful!" Beauty threw her arms around his neck. "Allsworth, that's wonderful!"

"But it means that I'll have to leave the ranch ... and you ..." He stroked her hair.

She stepped away, folded her arms, and snapped, "You can come visit on weekends. A degree takes four years. Four years is not a lifetime. We'll both survive. True love waits, anyway."

"But ..."

"You'll miss me and I'll miss you and we'll both be utterly miserable." She grinned at him. "So? Get a degree in three years."

He laughed; Beauty made it impossible for him to stay depressed. "You want to go swimming?"

"Skinnydipping?"

"No!" He laughed.

"You're blushing, Allsworth." She grinned at him. 

"You kinda have that effect on me." He thumped her on the head with the mail.

"Boy scout!"

"C'mon." He headed for the house. "Let me drop this stuff off with dad." He waved the mail. 

"I'll get it." She grabbed the mail from his hands and bolted up towards the house. "You change. Summer nights are too *short*!"

Allsworth chuckled, watching her run. Beauty ... he sighed, and headed for the bunkhouse to change into swim trunks. 

His throat constricted suddenly, as he thought of those four years (or three) apart from Beauty ... and then what? No matter what he majored in, it wasn't exactly like there was any hope of finding work here in the San

Pedro Valley ... 

He'd make a fortune and buy an estate with tall walls, and then he'd marry his garden art.

Unless he could find a way to turn her human.

Damn it all, anyway. 

Beauty sensed his mood when she returned, for she was very quiet. She slid her maimed hand into his and walked quietly beside him. "When do you leave?"

"Fall semester starts in September."

"It's August." She sighed. "Allsworth, I wish ..."

"I know." He wrapped his arms around her, suddenly. "I know, Beauty."

Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair -- it tumbled past his shoulders in a stylish mass that horrified his father far more than Beauty ever could. "I don't think ..." She sighed. "Let's not go to the springs." She suggested, suddenly.

"What?"

She stepped away from him, arms around her rib cage, head bowed. "Do you really love me?"

"Beauty!" Allsworth exclaimed, in a tone that indicated that he thought it was a supremely stupid question. "Yes! I love you!"

"Even though I'm ugly?"

"Beauty!" 

She lowered her head, and sighed. "Would you ... like to love me?"

"Huh?"

"Boy scout."

"Oh!" He turned a scarlet visible even in the moonlight. "Uhh ..."

"You do think I'm ugly."

"No!" He heard the immense hurt in her voice. "Oh, Beauty." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "I ..."

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I shouldn't have brought it up ..."

"No." He said, distinctly. "I've told you before that I don't care what you look like."

"But you do."

"But ..." He kissed her. "Yes. I want to love you."

She responded with all the enthusiasm that she'd kept so carefully reined in. When Allsworth pulled back, her eyes filled with hurt. "But?" She asked, sharply, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

"But not like this." He stroked her jaw. "Not with ... no promises..."

Her eyes were confused. 

Allsworth hesitated. "Wait here, will you? I'll be back in a moment."

He ran back to the bunkhouse, and when he returned, he had a small velvet box in his hands. Impishly, he grinned. "I won't tell you what the clerk thought when I bought this -- I hope it's big enough." 

She looked up at him. "Allsworth?"

He opened the box, and went down on one knee, and held it out to her. "Beauty, will you marry me?"

Her jaw was hanging open, and there were tears streaking down her cheek. "Oh, yes!"

He fitted the ring onto one of her finger. It was a man's ring and almost too small; her taloned fingers were enormous. But ... 

She kissed him, passionately, stroking his back with her one hand. 

Then she shrieked when he lifted her off her feet and swung her around in the air. "Beauty, I love you!" He shouted.

She giggled, "Now the neighbors know."

He laughed, set her down, and hugged her tight. "At least my parents do."

"Do they know ... about this?"

He grinned. "Grandma helped me pick out the ring."

"Oh!" She hugged him. "I thought they were acting weird because, well, they thought we were ..."

"Oh, well, they think we are." He scratched his head. "You know, I think my dad has the same gift I do. He sees you as a person -- he's not happy because he believes in marriage, but he hasn't said anything." He scuffed his toes in the dirt. "Mom's not happy, period, but she'll get over it."

"What about my brother?"

"You like comic books. That makes you cool in his book." Allsworth laughed. "C'mon, are we going swimming?"

"Skinnydipping?"

"What the hell." 

* * * * *

One wish.

She had one wish.

"Puck!" Grandma Allsworth shouted at her bathroom mirror.

Might as well make that one wish an early wedding gift ...

* * * * *

Beauty, wearing nothing more than her dark hair and water, scrambled up the rocks. She twisted around, leaped off the cliff, and entered the water with an enormous splash.

Creatures with wings would never make the Olympic diving team.

Allsworth followed, doing a cannonball that raised more water than Beauty's splash. He came up and looked for her ...

And a blinding flash silhouetted his fiancé in white fire as she scrambled out of the water ...

Lightning!?

Magic!?!

Allsworth stroked frantically to retrieve her from the water where she floated, face-down ...

She spluttered and lifted her head up before he reached her. "Shit!" She exclaimed. "What the hell?"

"Shit." Allsworth echoed. "Beauty?"

The girl looked up at him.

"Allsworth?" She said, confused. "I can't see."

He couldn't see very well, either; she was standing in a shadow out of

the moonlight. But ...

"Stand still." She was waist deep in the water. He ran a hand down her

back. No wings. 

"You're human, I think." He said, grinning and hugging her. "Beauty, you're human!"

"But how?"

"Two guesses."

"Fanny or Grandma." She laughed. "This is wonderful!" She threw her arm around him. "But I can't see?"

"You've lost your night sight, I'll bet. Oh, Beauty!" He pulled her close. "Our dreams ..."

"I'm human ... I'm human ..."

"C'mon." He towed her from the water. "Beauty, this is wonderful."

"I'm human ..."

He threw her tunic at her; she dressed numbly and somewhat awkwardly -- she kept trying to stand on her tiptoes.

"I'm human."

"You're human." He shone his flashlight on her. "... hell."

"What?"

"Nothing." He lied. "I love you, Beauty." He pulled her close, and kissed her, stroking her back. "I love you."

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

Her hand patted her face. "Not nothing. Damn it."

"It doesn't matter." He gripped her hand -- she still had only one, though now she had three fingers. "It does not matter!"

"It matters." She said, miserably.

"Not to me! Never to me!" 

She burst into tears on his shoulder, trembling, shaking, sobbing. "I'm still ugly!"

"You are my Beauty." He said, firmly.

* * * * *

"I'm sorry." Grandma Allsworth's face was stricken.

Fanny, arms folded, snapped, "I'll kill that little worm. He should've ..."

"He only granted my wish literally. She's human." Jessica snapped back.

"We ... the fey don't have to be literal." Fanny said, with a sigh.

Beauty, sobbing, had her face buried in Allsworth's chest. He stroked her hair, unable to do more than that -- she was inconsolable. Earlier, she'd looked in the bathroom mirror. She'd seen herself -- human but still scarred, still horribly scarred. 

Fanny sighed. "Beauty, knock it off."

"Fanny!" Allsworth snarled.

"Plastic surgery can't do anything for her hands, but it can do a hell of a lot for her face."

"What?" Beauty's head came up.

"Modern medical science can fix your face."

"That's true..." She breathed.

"It'll hurt, like hell, probably. And it'll be expensive -- Allsworth, you had better get that degree in Business. You'll need it."

"Oh, yes." He stroked her hair. 

With a suddenly contented sigh, she rested her head back against his shoulder. "I'm human."

"Mmm." Fanny said. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to take her to Legend City." Allsworth said, with a laugh. He could just see Beauty on the rollercoaster ...

Fanny laughed.

Beauty reluctantly stepped back from Allsworth's grasp. "It's almost dawn." She headed for the door, arms wrapped around her ribs.

"Beauty?" Allsworth said, with a grin.

"Yes?" She paused.

"You're human."

"What ... oh!"

He grinned and slapped her on the back. "C'mon. Let's go watch the sunrise." 

She skipped ahead of him, heading for the wall, which was completed now. With a graceless scrambled leap, she made the top and turned to offer Allsworth a hand up.

And she nearly fell off when he absently took it.

"You're not as strong as you used to be." He made it up on the wall beside her, sat down, and pulled her close.

The sky grew lighter, and birds began to sing. When the sky began to glow orange, she pulled away. He reached for her again, but she slid farther down the wall.

"Beauty?"

"I can't believe ... oh!" She pointed. 

The first rays of sunlight painted the mountaintops orange. It was a sight she'd never seen.

"It's so bright!"

He hugged her; she let him now. Now she believed. Now she knew she would not turn to stone.

"It's so beautiful ..."

Slowly, the sun rose higher in the sky. She squealed with delight when the first glint of the sun rose over the horizon; the sun touched her face.

"So warm!" She patted her cheek. "Allsworth, it's so warm!"

"I know." He rested his forehead against hers. "I know."

* * * * *

Fanny laughed, watching Beauty spin around in the sundress. "You look great."

"Do you think Allsworth will like ...?"

"Kid, Allsworth would like you in a burlap sack." Fanny said -- and was vaguely surprised by the twinge of jealousy that evoked. He was eighteen, damnit. 

Maybe in twenty years?

Beauty wasn't any more than sixteen or seventeen in human years. Beauty would probably outlive Allsworth. And Fanny had no doubts that the two had the kind of love that endured. 

Damn.

"You're right." Beauty studied herself in the mirror. "Allsworth is

altogether too uncritical."

Fanny grinned. She couldn't possibly be jealous of Beauty and Irwin. Nah. Just seeing the joy on their faces when they were together made *her* heart soar. They loved each other so much!

"I like having an extra finger." Beauty observed, "I can do buttons now." 

Fanny laughed. "Your hair is almost long enough to braid. Hmm?"

"Braid it?" Beauty ran a hand through her hair.

"Sure. I wish mine had as much volume as yours does." Fanny ran a hand through her own hair, which was as dark as Beauty's, but much thinner. "Beauty, have you and Allsworth discussed what you're going to do now?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "I ... never thought being a human would be so difficult."

"Tell me about it." Fanny rolled her eyes. "Human life is too complicated."

"We're going to go to Phoenix, get an apartment, but I can't get a job or go to school -- I don't have any papers ..."

Fanny chuckled. "Oh. Hmm. Let me take care of that. I have friends in high places ... can you do a British accent?"

"What does it sound like?

Fanny rolled her eyes. "That'll be the hard part, anyway."

* * * * *

"Thank you!" Beauty threw her arms around Fanny's neck.

Allsworth, somewhat dubiously, examined the green card. "Is this legit?" He pushed his glasses up his nose. The green card listed her name as Bethany Allsworth; Beauty was presumably a nickname.

Fanny chuckled. "Well ... it was officially issued, if that's what you mean. But we both know that Beauty isn't from Britain, and that you're not really married yet. Sorry about the location -- I'd have made her from somewhere in Latin America, but the only place I have contacts is Guatemala and the quota's full from there." She squinted at Beauty. "If anyone asks, Beaut, tell 'em your ancestors were Gypsies."

"Oh. Okay." Beauty grinned. 

Allsworth shrugged. "Well, Beauty, I suppose this means you could get your GED and go to college ..."

"And get a real job!"

"Well, yes." Allsworth pinched the bridge of his nose. "I suppose so." 

Fanny caught his eyes -- he looked as worried as she felt. 

"Hey!" Beauty hooked her arms around their waists. "This is like a dream come true!"

"So it is." Fanny chuckled. "Well, when do you two leave?"

"Tomorrow."

* * * * *

"It's ... small." Beauty walked around the studio apartment.

"Yeah, well, live with it."

"You're in a bad mood." Beauty's eyes widened.

"Huh? No. Sorry, Beauty. I didn't mean to snap." He pulled her close. "It's just that I wish I could afford more for us. But ... those stocks I bought pay enough in dividends for this, and for food ... but the thing with the stock market is, is it's a gamble. I'd rather put money away in case ... stuff goes south, y'know? It can go down just as fast as it goes up."

"I'll live with it." She walked to the window. "I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing so many people ..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He'd gotten used to the ranch himself.

"What's the name of those mountains?"

"The big one's South Mountain. I don't know about the others."

"I can't get over how *bright* the daytime is. And it's so hot! How do you stand it?"

"The same way you do. Suffer." Allsworth said, without much humor. 

"Allsworth!" She shrieked.

"What?"

"What's that!"

"Huh? Oh. Lawn mower." 

"Oh."

Chuckling now, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Beauty, you have this incredible talent for making me laugh ..."

* * * * *

"Allsworth!" Beauty met him at the door, in tears.

"What?" He dropped his books and pulled her into his arms.

"The ... the ... interveiw!" She wailed.

"Oh." She'd mentioned something about submitting an application to a fast-food restaraunt. "What happened?"

"She was too polite, she woudn't look me in the eyes, she said she wouldn't hire me because I didn't have a di-diploma but the kids working there weren't even *out* of High School and when I said that, she said I had no

work experience ... I *put* that I worked on the ranch ... she thought I was ugly!"

"Probably." Allsworth agreed. "You'll have to keep trying. And studying for that GED."

"I could pass that GED now."

"Then do it."

"Okay. I will."

* * * * *

"98 percent ... wow!" Three weeks later, he stared at her scores.

"You should see what I got on the SAT's." She was grinning.

He blinked. "When did you take your SAT's?"

"Few weeks ago."

"And?"

"1446."

"What? Beauty!" He laughed. "You're a genius!"

Smugly, she grinned. "I know."

He bopped her on the head with her scores. "You gonna sit in front of me in Trig next semester?"

"Huh?"

He laughed. "This calls for celebration."

"Burger king?"

"Burger King and Encanto Park!"

"Deal."

* * * * * 

In the moonlight, the Encanto Park pond gleamed silver. Allsworth leaned on the bridge and stared at the moon's face reflected in the water. Somewhere in the distance, the Kiddieland Merry-Go-Round's calliope played

cheerful music.

"The neighbor kid asked me what happened to my face."

"What did you say?"

"Someone hit me in the face with a sledgehammer." She chuckled softly, throatily. "He said, 'oh'." She sounded amused.

"Beauty, we should get married."

"I want to get a job first. Do this whole human thing right ..."

"I don't care ..."

"I'm not going to be some silly housewife!"

"I can't see you as a housewife. Silly, yes." He poked her in the ribs.

She pinched him. He tickled her. She shrieked, writhed loose from his grasp, and dashed off into the dark.

He chased after her, laughing ...

Her scream floated back.

Allsworth shouted, "Beauty!"

"Get off me! Down boy! Allsworth, look out! There's the biggest damn dog I've ever seen and he's attacking!"

"Beauty?"

"I'm up a tree ..."

The dog appeared, only it wasn't a dog.

Wolf.

The brief incongruity of a wolf in Encanto Park struck Allsworth as he ran for a tree of his own. He made the lower limbs of one of the ancient pines as the wolf snapped at his shoes.

Then the wolf started *climbing* the tree.

"Bloody hell!"

The wolf had hands.

And Allsworth knew, somehow, that this was no mortal canine.

"Shee - it!" Panicked, he scrambled backwards, farther out onto the limb.

The wolf lunged. 

Sheer terror loosed something within Allsworth. White fire burst from his eyes, face, mouth ... it struck the wolf full in the chest and flipped him head over heels, out of the tree, and to the earth below. The animal hit with a bone-crunching smack, yelped, and then lay still.

Allsworth scrambled down after.

"What the hell was that?" Beauty was at his elbow in seconds.

"Werewolf." Allsworth crouched, examining the creature. "Gargoyles, witches, elves ... why not verevolves?"

She laughed, nervously. "What did *you* do to him?"

"I have *some* talent. Even Fanny says that." Allsworth said. "I think he has broken ribs."

"Allsworth, he tried to kill you!"

"He was frightened." Allsworth felt for a pulse. The coarse dark fur was slick with blood. 

A slow rumble started.

"Easy, guy. I'm not going to hurt you."

The rumble continued.

"You have a compound fracture of your front leg." Allsworth said, softly. "If you swear not to bite me, I'll try to help."

The wolf lunged. 

Allsworth brought his knee up; it connected with the wolf's jaw. The animal fell back to the ground, fully unconscious this time.

Allsworth muttered a curse and gingerly picked the werewolf up. "My keys are in my pocket." They'd recently bought a very battered and ancient little compact car. He shifted his leg towards Beauty. "You drive. I'll

wolfsit."

* * * * *

At dawn, the wolf metamorphosised into a sandy- haired young man. 

"Gary." The wolf sat on the edge of Allsworth's bed, and supplied a name only grudgingly. "Wolf."

"Wolf?"

"It's a hereditary thing." The voice was sullen.

"Your arm's healed."

"Yeah. We do that." The wolf picked at the scab on his wrist. "So why

didn't you haul out the old twenty- two and the silver bullets?"

Allsworth laughed. "Let's just say I've learned to love the magical."

"Nothing to love about a wolf."

"We're about the same size." Allsworth threw a pair of jeans and a t-shirt at the man. "Bring 'em back when you get a chance."

"Thanks, man." There was a long pause. He studied Beauty, who was leaning against the wall, studying him with unfeigned curiosity. "You one of the children?"

"Flower or fey?" She replied, lightly.

He laughed, suddenly, honestly. "Fey."

"No."

"Damn. I'm usually better than that." 

"How'd you know?"

"No maidenly modesty."

"Oh." Now she blushed and turned her face away. He was stark naked. 

"Even nudists don't stare." 

"Sorry." She mumbled.

"Beauty didn't exactly have a normal upbringing." Allsworth rested a hand on her shoulder. "She's learning fast."

"So what are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" There was sudden hostility in her voice.

"Hey, you know my secrets." He shrugged into the jeans. "You," he pointed a finger at Allsworth, "Are an untrained talent, minor, probably an empath."

"Good guess."

"Nose." He tapped the end of his nose. "Good nose. You stink of magic, and of the fey."

"Oh." Allsworth's brow drew down. He hadn't been around the fey except for a brief glimpse of Puck once when the Child had come to visit with Fanny. 

"Her, her I can't figure."

"I was a gargoyle." Beauty said. "I'm human, now."

"Gargoyle?" Gary whistled. "Few enough of your people."

"I'm the last." She paused. "Of my clan." She amended.

"There's a few clans scattered around ..."

"In England and Japan, I know." Gary tucked his knee to his chest. "Sorry about attacking you two -- I did attack you?"

"Yeah."

"I try to ... take sleeping pills or something, but I forgot what day it was, this time. Stupid mistake. I don't remember much when I'm a wolf." He scratched his head. 

"You live around here?"

"Where's here?"

"Mill Avenue."

"Mmm. Not far. I can walk."

He was gone, then, out the door before either of them could react.

"Odd young man." Beauty observed.

"Yes. He's hurting and scared." Allsworth said, starting to make the bed. He frowned. Gary had bled all over the covers. Allsworth stripped the sheets. "Wish we could help him."

"Yes." Beauty agreed. "Boy scout." She poked him in the ribs.

* * * * *

Chapter 8

* * * * *

"What happened?" The doctor said, with academic curiosity, as he shone a light into her good eye. 

Beauty trembled under his touch. "Someone ... hit me in the face with a sledgehammer when I was five." 

"And your hands?"

"Smashed."

"Accurate description." The doctor said. "Your face is in more pieces than a jig-saw puzzle." He grimaced. "You're lucky you survived at all."

"My family did not. We were asleep. I never saw ... just after ..." She shivered.

"Hey." Allsworth had been standing behind her; now he wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I'm right here." He glared at the doctor.

"It's okay." She took a deep breath.

"No spinal damage." The doctor said, sounding surprised, as he turned to view the x-rays. "Can you breath through your nose?"

"No."

"Mm. Open your mouth as far as you can ... good." He shone a light into her mouth. "This should have been fixed years ago."

"It's ... fixable?"

"Yes."

"We can't afford ... now ..." Allsworth said softly. "We can't even afford ... a loan." His voice broke. "But I want to know how much ..."

The doctor sighed. "Both of you are students?" 

"On scholarship ... she damn near got perfect SAT's." Allsworth said, with deep pride evident in his voice. "We'll be able to afford it someday." He hugged her. "*I* don't care what she looks like, but *she* does."

The doctor nodded. "There's a program I know of that you two should be eligible for."

"Charity?" Beauty growled softly.

The doctor chuckled. "Well, I guess so. But you can always repay with donations as time goes along."

"I see." Allsworth nodded thoughtfully.

"The way I see it," the doctor said, "She's going to need three, maybe four operations ... but she should look nearly normal when we're done."

Beauty laughed suddenly, "Except for my hands ..."

"Well, have you ever looked into prosthesis?" The doctor suggested.

Beauty's soft sigh told him all he needed to. "Guess not." He scribbled a phone number down on the back of his card. "You might talk to these people. They do good work."

* * * * *

"To look normal ..." Beauty slipped her maimed hand into Allsworth's as they walked through at dusk to the parking lot. Suddenly, she froze. "One of my kind ..."

"What? Where?"

She pointed into the sky.

"You're right." He squinted. He could barely make out the shape of a winged glider against the sky. "I think."

"I'm *sure*. He's landing on the mountain, I think ..." She pointed at South Mountain. They lost sight of the creature in the growing dusk.

* * * * *

"Beauty, this is insane!" Allsworth followed her, as he had for the last two weeks, every day after his last class. She searched while he went to school, too, and had taken to spending long hours scanning the sky at night.

"He could be anywhere on this damn mountain, or nowhere, and if he changes his sleeping place by day, then it's like a needle in a haystack -- he might even alternate between the mountain preserves! Squaw Peak one day,

Shaw Butte the next, the North Mountain then the Papago Buttes ..."

"Don't you think I haven't thought of this?" She turned to face him. "But I have to hunt! What if he's as a alone as I was, Allsworth?"

The pain in her voice arrested his frustration. "Okay. We'll hunt. But ... hell, Beauty, he could just be passing through! He has wings; he could be in California by now!"

She growled at him. "Jealous?"

"What? No!"

"I can't let another gargoyle be alone, Allsworth. Not like I was. Never like that. No one ..." She shivered.

"You have me."

"Yeah." She agreed, softly. 

Allsworth sighed. "Look. Let's go about this systematically. You guys like to face the rising sun?"

"We like to see both the sunset and the sunrise." She sighed. "We're probably looking for an outcrop on the north face of a mountain, inaccessible from above or below and difficult to see." She paused. "But if he feels threatened, he'll place a priority on seclusion. So we check mine shafts and caves and crevasses and big patches of bushes ... and what do you think I've been doing the past two weeks? Chasing my tail?" She snapped suddenly.

Allsworth was ready to give up the search long before another week had passed -- early October in Phoenix was sticky and warm and miserable. Beauty persisted, though, for two more weeks.

She met him at the door of the apartment on the twenty-first of October with a fistful of stone shards in her hand. "I found where he roosts." 

"What?" He blinked, then threw his arms around her and spun her around and kissed her soundly. "Wonderful!"

"He's not there now, but he uses the place fairly frequently."

"Great! So check it every day and then meet him ..."

Suddenly she stiffened. "No. Why would he believe my story?"

"Beauty!"

"I'm just a human. Humans lie." She burst into tears. "Why would he believe I was a gargoyle? One of my own ..."

Allsworth hugged her tightly for a moment. "Why don't you leave a note? Tell him the whole story? Then let him decide ... hell, give him the address of the apartment."

* * * * *

It took the gargoyle a month to answer.

Naturally, he did so around ten PM during a rather indelicate moment.

"Ignore it." Beauty grabbed for Allsworth.

He threw a blanket over her and grabbed for his shorts. Expecting the neighbors, he opened the door.

The gargoyle was taller than Allsworth had expected, and he was a she. She was an easy six feet tall, all lanky grace and long limbs and wings that swept the floor and hair nearly that long. 

"Oh."

"You left this." She growled, challenging, eyes gleaming a bit, as she held up the note.

"Uh ... yeah."

"Are you going to invite me in or leave me out here for the neighbors to gawk at?"

"Uhmm ... hold on a second. Beauty's indisposed."

"Oh?" The gargoyle raised a slow, blond eyebrow. That single syllable told worlds about what she thought of *that* -- there was no approval in her tone. 

Beauty was already shrugging into her clothes, a grin threatening to split her face. When she was decent, Allsworth hugged her, then reopened the door.

The gargoyle was still standing there, arms folded, wings settled neatly about her shoulders, feet planted solidly on the ground. Tail twitching. Without comment, she stalked into the apartment and looked coldly and thoroughly around. "If you'll excuse me, I've learned to trust no one."

She checked the bathroom, under the bed, moved the clothes aside in their closet, and chinned herself up to look in the air vent. There was a casual arrogance in her inspection. "So. Are these claims true?"

Beauty had once told him that the gargoyle family structure was very close to a wolf pack. If that was so, Beauty's reaction was very much like that of an alpha wolf bitch. "Yes. They are." She literally snarled at the creature she'd searched so far and so long to find. If she'd had fur, her hackles would have been standing on end.

"Child," the other gargoyle settled her wings casually around her shoulders. "You lay tall claims. Can you prove them?"

"I can give you my word that they are true."

"Ah, but is that the word of a human or a gargoyle?"

Allsworth shuddered. Behind her words lurked a terrible cold anger and a truly vicious sense of justice. 

"Both." Beauty responded. "Now."

"You shame your clan." The gargoyle said, but the anger faded a little. "You *were* a gargoyle. Why did you chose ..."

"I could not fly, or fight," Beauty held her arms up, the one ending in a stump and the other half a hand, "and I was utterly alone. And I loved him."

"He would not have you as a gargoyle." The other gargoyle held her head high.

"He would have. But we could not have had this." She gestured around the apartment. "*I* wanted this."

"So you gave up ..."

"I invited you here to meet a sister!" Beauty finally lost it. "Not to be lectured about my love life by a total stranger! Get out of my home and my sight and I never want to see you again!"

The other gargoyle sniffed. "You're lost to their ways, little sister." She stalked out the door -- and slammed it.

"Well, that was certainly productive." Allsworth observed. "Didn't even get her name."

Beauty snarled with utter certainty, "That is one who *has* no name!"

* * * * *

Chapter Nine

* * * * *

"I want to go home." Beauty whimpered, into his shoulder. "I want to go home."

He stroked her dark hair, which was almost down to her waist now. Her one glory, she called it. "Okay, then, we'll go."

"I want to see Lady ... go for a ride ... go swimming in the springs... wait for you in the shadow of the trees ... mend fences ..." She whispered. "Oh, Allsworth. How could I have been so wrong?"

Unsure what she meant, he could only hug her, hold her, press her head to his chest and let her cry. "I'm sorry, Beauty. I'm sorry."

"Gargoyles." She sniffed. "I forgot what we're like."

"You haven't seen another gargoyle in twenty- two years. How could you *remember*?"

This provoked another round of tears. "I miss ... my sisters ... so much ..."

"Sisters?"

"I had two. Same age as me. They died."

"I'm sorry." She'd never told him that before.

"Life goes on." She sniffed, and tried to push out of his lap. He held on; he felt the grief in her heart. "Let me go."

"Not yet." He whispered, pushing her head back to his chest.

"I want to go home *now*."

"Now?" He sighed. "It's an eight hour drive and it's *raining*." It had started raining right after the gargoyle had left -- a damp winter rain, the first of the season.

"Now. It's Friday night. We can be there by Saturday morning."

"Very well." He kissed the top of her head. "Pack your bags, then."

She stood up and began throwing her clothes and a couple textbooks into a duffle bag. "Thanks." She mumbled. And sighed. "I could go alone ... I *can* drive now ..."

"Like hell I'm letting you go alone."

"Thanks." She sniffed.

* * * * *

Allsworth yawned sleepily, and studied the dark-haired figure asleep in the spare bedroom of the ranch-house. She looked tiny, fragile; a small- boned waif.

He yawned again, and stood up. She'd finally cried herself out and now she slept, arms around her pillow and tangled hair spread across the bed. Carefully, he shut the door and headed for the kitchen. His mother was there, seated at the kitchen table. She looked up, "What happened?"

"She met another of her kind."

"... Oh."

"Yeah. I think it brought back a lot of old memories."

"Where's the other creature?"

Allsworth winced, a little. "She's not a 'creature', Mom."

"Well, she certainly isn't human." His mother said, a bit sharply. 

"Mother!"

She sighed. "I know, I've accepted that you don't care ... and she

is a nice girl. I just wish you'd *marry* her."

Allsworth sighed. "She's scared, Mom. She's lost so much. She's scared it'll hurt more if she should ... lose me, after ... she committed." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm working on that."

"You'd work on the devil himself, given a chance."

Allsworth snorted. "I don't believe in devils. Only internal demons. Man doesn't *need* a devil to do evil things."

Her eyes widened. "Allsworth!"

He shrugged. "Though I dunno ... faeries, witches, gargoyles ... maybe I should believe."

She laughed, more in surprise than anything else. "Well, anyway. I wish you'd marry that ... girl." She sighed. "And what happened to the other gargoyle?"

"She's still out there. Hurting. Trusting no one. Alone. I think Beauty saw herself, or what she could have been, in the other ... it scared her." Allsworth sighed. "I'm going to go back to Phoenix as soon as she wakes up -- I don't want to leave her here without saying goodbye. I'll try to help the other; she needs someone to help her."

* * * * * 

"I don't ... don't leave me." Beauty clutched at his arm.

Allsworth grasped her hands. "Do you want to come to Phoenix with me?"

She glanced out the window. "I don't want to be alone ..."

"I'll call you." Allsworth promised. "When you're ready to face the other, let me know."

Beauty took a deep breath. "You're going to try to win her over, aren't you?"

Allsworth nodded. 

"What if ..."

"I'll be careful."

"I don't want to lose you." She said, very quietly, staring down at her hands. But Allsworth was already gone, out the door; he did not hear her.

* * * * *

The Gargoyle had chosen her roost well.

Allsworth climbed the rocky face of the Papago Buttes with caution; the rock was crumbly, sandy, and pitted with caves. The knapsack on his back swung loosely, threatening to unbalance him. Allsworth gasped as his foot

slipped. He seriously wondered how Beauty, with one hand, had managed the climb -- bullheaded determination, probably. When she wanted to be, Beauty could be foolishly stubborn.

Finally, a few moments before dusk, he reached one of the most inaccessible caves on the whole mountain. He nearly died of fright during the climb across the last twenty feet -- he had to crab across a cliff with a fifty foot drop beneath his toes, and tiny foot and hand holds that crumbled at his touch. He had no idea how Beauty had made the climb. He doubted he wanted to know. Maybe she'd run a rope and rappelled off the top.

And how many caves had she checked, before she found the right one?

The gargoyle was crouched in the back of the cave, where Beauty had said she would be. Stone shards were piled at her feet -- they were neatly swept away from the edge. That made sense; the stone shards were dark, and the rock was reddish brown. Someone might have wondered about the piles of strange rocks -- and perhaps investigated.

Allsworth had a brief, amusing vision of some geology student from ASU trying to figure out the origins of the rocks and discovering a gargoyle statue mysteriously placed high on the mountain.

Then the sun slid below the White Tank mountains, and dusk settled on the city.

The gargoyle roared awake.

"You."

"Me." He agreed.

"What are *you* doing here?" Her eyes were glowing; Allsworth presumed that was a sign of anger, although he had never seen Beauty's eyes glow. He couldn't remember Beauty *ever* losing her temper. 

"Figured you must be hungry."

"Yeah. Right. Why would you care?" She backed away from him.

He shrugged. "If nothing else, I'm an empath. When the world's happy, I'm happier."

"Riiight." She was edging towards the cliff.

"Hey."

"What?"

"Catch." He threw the knapsack at her. "Lunch."

She snorted, and leaped for the sky -- but she took the knapsack.

Allsworth grinned. Then swore softly. "Forgot a flashlight. Damnit." He peered over the edge of the cliff. It was at least fifty feet straight down onto a hillside covered with rocks and cholla; in the gathering darkness, the threat was almost invisible but definitely palpable. "Damn."

* * * * * 

"Do you want to come home?" Allsworth sighed into the phone.

"This ranch is my home." Beauty sounded stubbornly, mulishly, upset.

"I took the other something to eat."

"What did she say?"

"Not much."

"You won't win her over." Beauty said, confidently. "Allsworth, I know where she's coming from. She couldn't possibly trust a human."

"You trust me."

Silence. Finally, she responded, quietly, "Yes. I do. I owe too much to you."

"Uh-uh." Allsworth heard the pain in her voice. He hated telephones. He coudn't *hug* over the phone. "Uh-uh. I love you, Beauty."

"Yeah." She sighed. "I love you."

* * * * * 

The gargoyle walked through his apartment's unlocked door Sunday night and dropped his knapsack on his bed. "I am in debt to no one." She snarled. "I returned your bag."

"Thanks. Hold on a second." He walked into his tiny kitchen; he was vaguely suprised that she was still there. "Here." He held out an apple and a can of soda to her. "It's all I have."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I told you. I like helping people. And you need help. Do you have any allies?"

"No." 

"Friends?"

"My clan is scattered. We separated to survive. I have two rookery brothers in San Francisco. Otherwise, I have lost track of them." She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I was rude to you and your ... mate. Where is she?"

"Back at the ranch." Allsworth stretched, popping his knuckles over his head. He shoved his glasses back up his nose, and asked casually, "Beauty was fifteen when her clan was killed -- she woke to find them dead. Woke as she

is."

"Who named her *Beauty*."

"I did."

"You mock her."

"No." Allsworth shook his head. "She is beautiful, inside." He sighed. "She knows very little of the ways of her people. It would mean a lot to her -- and to me -- if you would tell her of what she has lost."

"Why should I do this?"

"Lunch?" Allsworth suggested, then grinned. "Or do it for yourself. There's few enough of you people ..."

"Except for my brothers and I, I know of no others."

"Oh, well, then I have good news for you." Allsworth grinned at her. "There's a very large clan in Japan, a smaller one in Guatemala, one in Italy and a mated pair in England, and a few individuals scattered here and there."

Her eyes widened. "Whole clans?"

"Yes. I could put you in touch with them, if you'd like. In fact, the Italian clan has been actively looking for new members -- they have a secure sanctuary, and room for more."

"Oh, yes. *Would* you put me in touch with them?" She grabbed his arms. "Please?! I'd do anything! I thought I was one of the last ..."

"Well, your people are not thriving." Allsworth said, "But there are enough to ensure another generation."

"Human, I could kiss you!"

"Please, I'm engaged."

"And you're loyal ...!" She grinned. "I'm so sorry ... it's been so long since ... well ..."

"Hey, I understand."

"Can I, can I sit down? This is quite a shock."

He gestured to the chair, then fished in the rolodex on his dresser for Fanny's number. She answered on the first ring, "Yeah, Allsworth?"

"Uh ..." He didn't bother to ask how she knew it was him; he did the same thing when people called. "I have a gargoyle sitting in my apartment."

"Should I yell at the Puck about spellcasting techniques or is this another one?"

Allsworth choked. "No, not Beauty. Another one."

"What, starting a collection? Or a harem ..." Fanny's voice was sardonically amused, but there was an edge there, too, that he didn't quite understand.

"Hardly. I'm not sure who Beauty would kill first -- me or the competition."

"You. Then the competition." Fanny said, with confidence. "So what can I do for you?"

"Umm. Well, she wants to know about other gargoyles."

"Oh. That's easy enough. Can you put her on? I can give her some contacts."

"My friend Fanny will tell you about the others." Allsworth held the phone out to the gargoyle.

She took it warily, but within five minutes, Fanny had the gargoyle laughing and taking down addresses and phone numbers. The newcomer was grinning; she kept glancing at Allsworth as if he could walk on water.

Allsworth sighed. It said something about the world when doing something so simple as feeding a hungry soul and connecting her with her kin was out of the ordinary. 

"Hey, listen, I'm going to go to the library -- I have some homework to do. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Feel free to use the phone."

She gave him an extraordinarily grateful look. "Thank you, human."

"No problem." He shut his apartment door on the gargoyle, who cradled the telephone in her hands and stared at the numbers he'd written down on the back of a junk-mail flyer.

"Bless him." She whispered.

* * * * *

Chapter 10

* * * * *

"Hello. Justavius speaking."

Somehow, someway, the gargoyle had no doubt that the young voice belonged to one of her own kind -- a child. The clan had children.

"C-can I speak to one of your elders?" She stammered, fighting back sudden tears.

"Sure. Can I tell them who's calling?"

"I don't have a name!" She said, shocked. Only then did she realize that the young one had identified himself with a name.

"Yeah, but you need a name so's we know who called an stuff."

"Tell ..." She closed her eyes. "Then tell him Phoenix called." It would do.

"'Kay." The kid ran off, feet pounding audibly even over the phone.

"'Da!" A voice cried audibly in the distance, then yammered in Italian.

"Hello. Cecil speaking. What can I do for you?" 

"Uh. I'm ... I'm a gargoyle and Fanny Tarro gave me your phone number and I can't believe there's others alive and ..."

"Slow down." The voice sounded like it belonged to a older gargoyle; it also sounded amused. "Fanny called to warn us. I'm very glad to hear of another living -- and Fanny said you had two brothers?"

"In San Francisco. Yes. And maybe a clan elder in New Jersey, but we've been out of touch for so long ... I ride the trains to Frisco once in a while, but Jersey's too far ..."

"Well. This is certainly a pleasant surprise." He chuckled. "Our clan is growing, but it's always nice to hear of another ..."

* * * * *

Allsworth opened his apartment door and was attacked. Or rather hugged.

The gargoyle swung him around, laughing. "They have children! Ten children! Our people live on!"

"Wonderful!" Allsworth grinned at her. 

"They'll pay for shipping ..." Her lips curled in amusement, "If I want to go live with them. Me and my brothers, if they want to come, and the rest of our clan, if we can find her, and ... thank you, Human!" She kissed him.

"Hey!" He struggled free. "I'm engaged to be married."

"Sorry." She didn't look very sorry. "Thank you! I'll be back tomorrow!" She leaped out the door and vanished into the night.

* * * * *

"So she's going to Italy?" Beauty had decided to come back to Phoenix -- she missed Allsworth, she said.

Allsworth guided their battered little car into the parking lot of the apartment complex. "Yeah. Fanny's got some friends in strange places; she'll be shipped on a military transport from New York to Germany, and then from Germany to Italy, she'll go by van. The gargoyles apparently have a pretty large farm they've taken over, with the help of some human friends."

He scratched his head. "Y'know, Italy never seemed like a likely place to find gargoyles."

Beauty smiled. "One of our oldest legends speaks of Rome. I wonder if they're descended ..." She yawned sleepily. "Well, honestly, I'll be glad to see her gone."

"Why? You were so eager to find her."

"She reminds me of what I might have been." Beauty answered, honestly. 

"Yeah, but would you be what you are now?"

"What am I now?" Beauty hugged herself. "Human ... but the night calls to me still."

He hugged her. "Hey. Would you trade the night for me?"

She laughed, softly. "Maybe."

"Beauty!" He said, stung. "But ..."

"I wish I could have both." She said, miserably. 

* * * * *

"Allsworth. When's your spring break?" Fanny asked him over the phone the next day.

Allsworth yawned -- he hadn't been getting much sleep lately -- and responded, "Next week."

"That's what I figured. Would you like to take a trip to Europe?"

"... What?" 

"I had an escort arranged for Phoenix, but she's got the flu ... I don't want to ship her without an escort. If you're interested ..."

"Can Beauty come?"

"Uh ... if she wants to. You'll get to meet the Italian clan, and the flight's stopping overnight in London, so you guys could drop in on Una and Leo, too."

Allsworth picked up a pencil, "Tell me what I need to do."

* * * * *

"Go to Europe?" Beauty was furious, though Allsworth wasn't entirely sure why. "Allsworth, you can't! You can't leave me!"

"You can come with me!"

"I can't face other gargoyles!"

"Then stay here!"

"Alone?!" She shrieked.

"It's only a week!" He ran his hands through his hair -- he was ready to pull it out.

"Allsworth, you're all I have!"

"You can spend the week at the ranch ..."

"Your mother hates me!" She snapped.

"Beauty, that's not true!"

"She keeps asking me when I'm going to marry you! She said good girls get married! Allsworth, I don't want to spend the week ... that's why I came back here, I couldn't stand her anymore!"

"Then come with me!" He grabbed her wrists.

"I can't face other gargoyles!"

"Yes you can!" He snapped.

"No I can't!"

"I'll be with you!" He said, firmly.

"You're leaving me behind right now!" She insisted, irrationally panicked.

"But you can come with me!"

"I can't face other gargoyles!"

Allsworth took a deep breath. "Beauty."

"What?!!"

"This is ridiculous." 

She burst into tears. 

Allsworth started to hug her, then balled his fists. "You're acting like you're ten years old. Beauty, I can't be with you every second of the day. You don't *need* me with you every second of the day!"

"You're my strength ... what would I be without you? I can't even get a job!" She wailed.

Allsworth snorted. "When was the last time you went looking?"

"They won't hire me! I'm ugly!"

"I do not care what you look like." He said, softly. 

"But the rest of the world does!" She gestured with her mangled hand at her scarred face.

"So what?"

"So what? I can't get a job! I'm useless and I don't want to be useless!"

"Beauty, I can't deal with this right now. You're just feeling sorry for yourself and it's not doing either of us any good. I'm taking Phoenix to Italy. If you want to come fine. If not, you'll have to stay here or at the ranch. It's time you learned to stand on your own two feet." He headed for the apartment door.

"Allsworth, don't leave me!"

He very nearly turned around and held her, hugged her, soothed away the tears. But Beauty *needed* to learn independence. Even if it hurt both of them, she had to learn to stand on her own.

* * * * *

Beauty's fear of being left behind proved to be greater than her fear of meeting others of her kind. Sullenly, she followed Allsworth across the tarmack. A large metal crate containing Phoenix had already been loaded onto

a military transport -- Fanny's contacts were evidently pretty high up; they were hitching a ride from Luke Air Force Base to Germany on military craft. Phoenix was officially classified as "Top Secret".

Allsworth had asked, "Does the government know about gargoyles?"

Fanny's grin had been audible over the phone. "Only those who need to know."

The crew of the transport thought they were smuggling a bomb into Europe. He'd overheard them speculating about it. Rumor had it that Beauty's scars had been caused by an accident in a military lab.

Whatever. So long as Phoenix got there safe. Allsworth yawned sleepily. It was one AM.

"You can ride there." The co-pilot pointed out a patch of bare floor next to Phoenix' crate. No seats. Allsworth hoped that there wouldn't be too much turbulence.

He clambered in, and wedged himself between Phoenix' crate and a pallet of fifty pound bags of beans. He held his hand out to pull Beauty down next to him. She flinched away and sat silently as far from him as she could.

"Look." He glared at her. "What do you want me to do? Tell Phoenix she can't go to see her kin?"

"They could have found someone else."

"Beauty, I love you." He cupped his hands around her one maimed hand. "But we have our own lives to live. I want to help Phoenix."

She sniffed and turned her head away from him.

"Look, why don't you go back to the ranch?" He sighed. "Balti will be there."

"You don't want me with you."

"That's not true!"

"It is!" She jumped to her feet and scrambled out of the plane.

"This," Allsworth growled, "Is ridiculous." He followed her out the door and onto the tarmack. "Did you see which way Beauty went?" He asked the fuel guy.

The man appeared to be having trouble with the hose attached to the plane; he was beating on it with a wrench. "She went that way." He grunted, and pointed with his chin.

Beauty was a hundred yards away, heading for the gate off the runway. She had an escort, who was trotting to keep up.

"Damn her, anyway." Allsworth sighed. But he followed, running to catch up.

The fuel technician raised the wrench one last time. It missed the end of the hose and clipped a steel rivet on the underbelly of the plane.

The spark met aviation fuel.

Fire blew from the end of the hose with an explosive whooomph!

Beauty whirled around.

Allsworth had never been able to catch her when she ran; not when she had been a gargoyle and not now. His short legs simply weren't made for running.

"Phoenix is in there!" She screamed.

He made a grab for her and missed.

She covered the length of a football field in seconds; she vanished into the interior of the plane.

Fire curled around the wing. Around the gas tanks.

Allsworth, moving slower, was intercepted by the plane's pilot. The man stood six inches taller than Allsworth, and was fifty pounds heavier -- despite Allsworth's frantic struggles, he knocked Allsworth to the ground and held him down.

Phoenix was screaming in terror. Beauty shouted encouragement and in fear; she yanked frantically at the latches on the large metal crate. Allsworth could hear thumping and banging inside the plane and through the smoke, see her beating on the crate.

Talons punched through the metal, shearing it aside; Beauty's help proved unnecessary. Phoenix kicked free of the wreckage. Phoenix saw Beauty, grabbed her, and leaped for the door.

The fireball hit them with a force like dynamite.

Allsworth screamed. "Beauty!"

Beauty ran from the flames, hair burning, jacket afire. Allsworth struggled out of the grasp of the pilot and flattened her, beating out the flames. 

Beauty sobbed in pain, and buried her face in his chest, her three fingers clutching his shirt with agony. Her back was burned ... not, Allsworth thought, as badly as it could have been. She could have been fried to a crisp

...

"Phoenix?" Beauty asked, fearfully.

Allsworth glanced up. Phoenix stood, staring into the fire, fists balled, tears streaking down her face. She was burned as well -- worse than Beauty, who had been wearing jeans and a denim jacket. Phoenix had only a

pair of worn shorts and a tank top on; like most gargoyles, she disliked restrictive clothing.

"It's injured." One of the crewmen said, crouching beside them and staring at Phoenix.

Allsworth rose. "Take care of Beauty for me, will you?"

The man -- the pilot -- nodded and turned his attention to Beauty. 

"Allsworth! Don't you dare leave me!" She cried, as he did just that.

Allsworth flinched. "Phoenix needs help."

"She'll heal with the dawn!"

Allsworth sighed and walked the twenty feet to Phoenix. "Hey. Come on. Sit down."

"So close." She whispered hoarsely. "So close."

"It was just an accident." Allsworth sighed. "A stupid freak accident. One in a million -- one in a billion chances. We'll try again and get you there."

"I hurt." Her eyes were enormous; shocky.

Allsworth didn't dare touch her; she was burned over most of her body. Her wings were the worst; she'd wrapped them around herself in futile defense. They were a very large surface area of burns, of damaged tissue ...

"Don't sit." He realized her legs and tail were burned. Should he let her sit on the ground, or not? He didn't know ...

She solved his dilemma by slumping to the ground. Her fingers, when he grabbed them, were icy. Her pulse was sluggish. Her breathing was shallow, rapid. 

"What the hell is that thing?" The base paramedics were there.

Allsworth grimaced. He needed to give them a plausible explanation ... he pointed skywards, and twirled his fingers. The paramedic blanched. He pointed upwards. Allsworth nodded.

"Shit. Should I be here?"

"Probably not." Allsworth sighed. "Treat her like she was human ... she should respond the same." He hoped Fanny's influence extended to the military hospital.

Phoenix gasped, and coughed. Blood. She slumped forward.

"She's not breathing ..." The medic started CPR.

Allsworth moved away. "Take her to Saint Joe's." He stroked Beauty's hair. "We're civilians." He added the latter unnecessarily. Beauty wasn't hurt badly at all; to his untrained eye, the burns on the back of her neck looked second degree and the rest were minor -- she'd skinned out of her jacket and the medics had slit her shirt open. 

"Allsworth, don't leave me!"

"I'm going to call Fanny." 

"Oh." She said, quietly, and stopped talking. He could feel a sudden change in her ... a quiet gathering of strength.

* * * * *

"I could have died." Beauty whispered to him, later, in the emergency room. "How's Phoenix?"

"Dead." Allsworth said. "They declared her dead at the base hospital." He didn't mention the fight that had ensued there -- one doctor declaring death; another unwilling to give up on so precious a patient and a ranking officer unable to do anything but stare and go, "Oh damn. Not on my shift. Oh ..." He wondered what the base doctors would make of the body -- Fanny had said she wasn't even going to try to reclaim it; it was just a husk. Maybe science would learn something from it. She could cover their trail, but Phoenix was lost to them.

"It's not your fault." Beauty gingerly hugged him -- her arms were singed a little.

"If I'd just left well enough alone!" He thumped a fist down on the bed.

Beauty smiled faintly. "You'll never leave well enough alone. You'll always be helping some poor lost soul. There will always be another broken heart for you to mend, another lost one to bring home ... that is who you are, Allsworth, and I'd be selfish to try to change you."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Beauty, Phoenix is dead because of me."

"No. Phoenix is dead because of an accident." Beauty nestled her head against his shoulder. "I'm going to ... try to live one more time. I'm not going to give up this time. I'm going to do it, and I don't need ... I think I can do it on my own. Do you understand? I want to do it myself. On my own two feet, with my own hands ... hand ..." She grinned, "and my own head. You've given me a gift, Allsworth, greater than I can ever repay. Thank you."

He kissed her. "Only because I love you."

She snorted. "You'd do it for a stranger on the street." She sighed. "Allsworth, I want you to swear me something."

"What?"

"Swear to me that you will *always* help those in need. Swear this to me. Swear to never overlook a soul in need."

"I .... I swear." He said, confused, but hearing the urgency in her voice. "But I don't need to swear ..."

"I know. That's why you're so special to me. But ... whatever happens, don't forget your oath to me. Please."

He stroked his hand along the side of her face. "Sounds like they're coming to take you to your room."

"You should go home. Get some sleep."

"That's okay. I don't want to leave you alone."

She smiled. "Don't worry. I'll be okay."

"I'm not leaving you alone."

She laughed. "You've been trying to get me to be independent for the last few months and now you're refusing ..."

"You're hurt!"

She tolerated his presence up to her room. "Go home now." She pointed at the door. "I'll survive."

"Yes, Beauty." He said, obediently. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you." 

"Always." He bent over and kissed her. "I'll be back tomorrow."

* * * * *

Only she wasn't there the next day.

A note arrived in his mail a week later. It was postmarked Texas. "Allsworth, I need to find myself ... I need to figure out who, and what, *I* am. I'll find you someday, let you know how I turned out. Never stop helping people. With love forever, Beauty."

"She didn't have to leave ..." Allsworth stared out his tiny apartment window. Tears streaked down his face. "She didn't have to leave ..."

The End


End file.
